


Boden's Mate

by EricaNoelle180



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-02 15:18:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 120
Words: 459,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4064761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EricaNoelle180/pseuds/EricaNoelle180
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Ned never became hand of the king.</p><p>Boden's Mate:<br/>The king is mated by the two criss-crossing bishops, and blocked by two friendly pieces.</p><p>After a long, hard winter, Sansa learns that the world is full of players and pawns. When a powerful and dangerous man comes to Winterfell to collect taxes for the Iron Throne, Sansa aligns herself with a powerful player in order to change the game. </p><p>Chaos is a ladder and she decides to climb it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU where Ned never became hand of the king. It takes place six years after the first episode of season one OR the beginning of the first book. I am working off of both the tv show and the books.

Chapter One

 

Everything changed when Bran fell. Sansa still remembered when her father carried his limp and broken body back to the castle. Her mother's cries echoed throughout the silent and cold grounds. Catelyn held onto him so tightly, Sansa thought her mother might break whatever was left in the poor boy. That was the first moment, as a young girl, Sansa stood still and frozen, that she realized that everything was going to change. She realized that life was not like the songs the fools sang. Life was cold and cruel, and death was no different.

It was her first lesson. 

The memories of those first fearful hours blurred together, but Maester Luwin took Bran from Catelyn's grieving arms, just has he had placed Bran into her arms the day he was born. Luwin carried the boy up to Bran's chambers and laid him on the soft furs that covered his bed. Bran was alive, but just barely. Catelyn, Arya and Sansa never left his side in those first initial hours. It was the first time that the two sisters sat together without an argument breaking through. Ned was angry to the point of blind rage. She remembered hearing the crash from several floors below. To this day, Sansa never knew what her father broke because he never spoke of it. Her father, while noble and gentle, had a quick temper. A Stark trait. 

And few months after his fall Bran died and that temper broke.

Robb took over the duties as Lord of Winterfell while the rest of the family grieved. He took the step that was needed and became the heir that Ned was proud of. It was in those first dark days that Sansa really saw who her brother was and what a great Lord he would become. Rickon was so young that he didn't understand what had happened. He clung to his family and simply cried. Neither Sansa nor Arya wanted to leave their mother alone so they would take turns caring for their youngest sibling. It was the first decision that the two sisters could agree on.

The only sibling that didn't stay to see if Bran would wake was Jon, but as Sansa thought on it, he wasn't really wanted. That was something she was sorry for now. She hadn't seen him since she watched his horse gallop off from her chamber window. She still remembered Ghost's paw prints in the light summer snow. She knew Arya missed him but even to this day it was hard for her to admit how much Sansa longed to see him again. She regretted her actions toward him now. 

The second lesson came when her father turned down the position for Hand of the King. That was the only strand of hope that Sansa felt in such a dark time. She thought that Kings Landing would be an escape. A place where the thought of Bran's lifeless eyes and her mother's sobs could fade into a distant memory. It was to be her future. The first steps toward the prince that would one day be her husband and into the chapter of her life that would make her queen.

What a silly fool I had been. Sansa thought bitterly. It had been six years since and how bleak those six years had been. She had cried when the King's party had departed. She was furious with her father for not taking the position. She yelled and screamed at him and he simply let her. Ned was too distraught to really muster the effort to correct his daughter. Robb however didn't let her treatment of their father go unpunished. 

Of course King Robert still wanted to make an arrangement between Joffery and Sansa, something she wanted so badly. She thought that she was in love and wanted nothing more than to be Joffery's queen. Sansa shook herself. She couldn't think of that now. Things were bleak, that was certain but they were better than they had been in so long. While she was angry and broken, she simply wanted to enjoy the freedom. 

Sansa leaned back and let herself rest against the Weirwood. The godswood is the only place she found comfort anymore. She often would sit there and sew or read while her father prayed. It was like a silent agreement between the two of them but they never spoke a word to each other. Not under the Weirwood. Her father had taken Robb and Theon to the village to deal with an issue, so Sansa was enjoying the silence. Being alone was a hard find in a place such as Winterfell. The godswood was the only escape, a place where very few people will come and bother her. But if someone, whether a drunk guard or an escaped wildling, Sansa made a vow that she would never become a victim. 

Sansa reached down and pulled the small dagger from the holster on her thigh. It was a gift from Jon that she received on her last name day. Arya gave it to her with a letter from their brother after the festivities had ended and the two of them went to their chambers. How Arya kept this dagger a secret from their parents, she would never know. But then again, Arya had Needle and her mother had no notion of that weapon. What would father say if he knew I had this? It was made of valyrian steel and the handle had the engraving of a direwolf. It was light but deadly. After turning the dagger over in her hand for a few moments, she heard the soft crunch of footprints in the snow. Sansa put the weapon back in the holster where it could be easily accessed.

“I thought I would find you here.” Sansa turned and saw Lady Stark before her. Her mother wore the smile she reserved only for her children. Her long auburn hair was down and hung around her waist. The Tully fish pin nestled gently on her light green gown. Catelyn moved closer to her daughter, her cloak dragging behind her and causing a rift in the snow. The elder women sat down beside her daughter. Sansa placed the smile of the eldest Stark daughter on her lips. I can't let her see. Sansa thought. She needed to hold it all together. She didn't want her family to see who she really was, what she had become. She wanted to be the lady they thought she was so badly. 

“You caught me just in time. I was about to go and look for Lady.” Sansa replied and Catelyn laughed lightly. 

“Well I just saw her. She was chasing Nymeria, Shaggydog and Summer who were chasing Rickon.” That caused a genuine laugh out of Sansa. She could envision it. The three giant direwolves padding after the horse that carried her younger brother. Of course Rickon liked to ride fast and Sansa couldn't blame him for that. He was far more sheltered than any of the other Stark children. Riding was his only source of freedom. 

“Horseback riding again?” Catelyn nodded but her lips thinned into a straight, displeasing line. It wasn't that her mother disapproved of Rickon's riding. It was exact opposite, she was glad that the nine year old boy had some sort of freedom and enjoyment. Ever since Bran's death, Rickon was not the same cheerful little boy anymore. No, it was the reminder on why he was riding.

At first, Sansa thought her parents were being irrational. When Tyrion Lannister came back from the Wall after riding off with her uncle and bastard brother, he received a cold welcome and it wasn't just the snow that brought the chill. He came back with a gift, a saddle for her brother, incase he ever awoke. Maester Luwin stated that if he ever did wake, Bran would be paralyzed but when he didn't, Ned locked the designs away in his solar. They remained there until a year after Bran's death, when Rickon found them nestled between some old documents. Like Arya, Rickon had a habit of snooping in places that he didn't belong. Rickon insisted upon having the saddle, he said that he couldn't remember what Bran looked like and wanted something that reminded him of his brother. It was a generous gift and she didn't see why her parents were reluctant to accept it. It wasn't until after Rickon convicted them to have the saddle made to honor Bran's memory that Arya told her about a conversation she overheard while exploring the hidden passageway that lead down to the kitchens.

Arya had a habit of wondering Winterfell's grounds. She learned a good deal about what went on around the castle and the secrets that it held. She heard horrid gossip of the servants and sometimes she saw more than she bargained for. Once she saw their ward, Theon having relations with a servant girl. That was how Arya leaned about what happened on a bride's wedding night. Theon had gotten a severe punishment from Ned once he learned of the whole incident. Arya was lucky. Sansa thought. 

Arya overheard her parents arguing over the saddle. Catelyn never understood why Ned kept the design in the first place and she wanted nothing more than to throw them in the fireplace but it was the look of pure happiness on Rickon's face that prevented them from doing so. She didn't understand why her parents would turn down such a generous gift. Arya didn't hear the specifics but her parents blamed the Lannisters for Bran's death. To Sansa that made no sense because the Lannisters could do no wrong in her mind. On day a few months later, while feeling bold, Sansa asked Robb why they thought that the Lannisters could possibly be at fault for what happened to Bran.

Robb spun a story about the night Bran fell. Once Catelyn was able to leave her chambers after Bran's death, she went to the tower which he fell from. There she discovered a long golden lock, one that only could belong to Queen Cersei. At first Sansa couldn't believe that the Lannisters or Queen Cersei would do such a thing. At that time, she thought they could do no wrong. It wasn't until she became a closer acquaintance that she realized how wrong she was. She began to realize that the Lannisters were capable of all manner of perversions. 

And she wanted them to pay for it all. 

“It's all he seems to want to do.” Catelyn stated. It was true, getting Rickon off his horse was as difficult as it was to get Arya to act like a lady, who at that very moment was having secret lessons with Ser Rodrik Cassel. She knew he mother was unaware of the lessons but she was sure that her father knew of them, if not organizing them up himself. “But that is not why I came to speak with you.” Catelyn stood and held out her hand. “Let's take a stroll.” She held out her hand and Sansa took hold of it. They linked arms and began a leisurely pace out of the godswood.

They were silent for a moment, just taking in their surroundings. The snow was getting lighter now and the cold wasn't as bitter. Some say that the thaw was coming and summer would soon be upon them. A six year winter was much shorter than anyone expected, but it was still harsh. The last summer lasted nine years and hopefully this one will last just as long. If Sansa looked hard enough, she wondered if she could see the flowers begin to bloom. The small part of her that remained the hopeless romantic wondered if the new summer would bring new life to her. Yet, the bitter and cold part of her knew that it would always be winter. 

“Your father and I are very proud of you Sansa. The women you have come in the last few years, well, you've matured into a beautiful young lady.” Catelyn stated with a soft smile playing on her features. It was when her mother smiled that Sansa could see the beauty that her mother was in her youth. Her mother rarely smiled like that anymore. She never fully recovered and when Bran died, a part of her did too.

“Thank you. You have no idea how much that means to me.” The lie slipped through her lips easily. Lying was natural now, almost like a second nature. She walked with the grace of a someone of her station, but she hated it all. Catelyn squeezed her arm with affection and it comforted her. After everything, the pain, the fear and most of all her foolishness, she still loved her family. She loved them but they all were so blind to what was right in front of them.“But I'm assuming that you did not come out here in the cold to praise me.” 

“You always were quick witted.” Catelyn laughed lightly. “But you are right.” She paused and looked ahead. Winterfell was in sight and she could see people busy about up ahead. In the distance she could hear Rickon's laughter. “You're seventeen now. Your father and I have been thinking that it is time for you to marry.” 

That was the last thing Sansa wanted to hear. Once upon a time that would have been everything she dreamed of. The thought of a handsome knight with blond hair and ice blue eyes to sweep her off her feet. She dreamed that he would be made of honor and bravery. She was wrong. Fairy tales didn't exist.There were no knights to come in and rescue her. If she needed someone to save her, she would have to do it herself.

“I see.” She didn't want to think about marriage but she knew the reason why her parents were pushing for it and she had been expecting this conversation for some time. At night, Sansa and Arya would sit up talking about the fact that several of the high born families were falling. Westeros was in trouble. Several families owed money to the Iron Throne and the Iron Throne owed money to the Iron Bank in Bravvos. The bank was now trying to collect. The throne and the highborn families were scrambling to pay their “taxes”. The Starks were no different.

The Boltons fell. The Peasburys fell. The Waynewoods.....the list never ended. The Greyjoys still lived in their ancestral home but their power has practically diminished. Theon didn't take that news well. While the Starks were not exactly destitute not all the families they presided over can afford to pay their taxes to the Starks, thus paying the taxes that the Iron Throne is demanding, much more difficult. Her parents were hoping that if they married off Sansa to a wealthy family, then perhaps her new husband would be willing to help with the financial needs of the North. In exchange, they would have the North as an ally and their armies if they ever needed them.

“Do you have any suitors in mind?” Sansa asked. 

“No. We have discussed possible matches but we didn't want to make any arrangements without your input.” Catelyn stated and Sansa knew why. They broke her engagement with Joffery without her consent and she was different afterwards. They thought she was suffering from a broken heart and she let them continue on with that illusion. It was far easier than the truth. Outside of Arya and her brother Jon, no one knew. She planned on keeping it that way.

“I see.” While Sansa would have been happy to never marry, she knew that she would not be so lucky. “Thank you for letting me have a say in this.”

“Of course. I wouldn't force you to marry someone you didn't want to, neither you or Arya-or any of my children for that matter.” Catelyn stated. Sansa had to smile at that.

“Unlike you and Aunt Lysa?” Sansa asked. She knew that what her mother's thoughts on the matter. Catelyn loved Ned but she knew that she was lucky. Not every women is blessed with such a kind husband and she knew that the chances of Sansa and Arya ending up in a marriage where they were not kindly treated were great. As for her sister Lysa, Jon Arryn was always kind to her but there was no love there. Catelyn often said she didn't understand why her father married her sister to Jon Arryn but Ned always assured her how kind he was so she never questioned the matter any further.

“Exactly.” With that, mother and daughter walked toward to Winterfell, the saw a figure approach. The figure, while walking briskly, was still coming slowly. It was Maester Luwin. The maester was getting up there in age and his body didn't work the way it once did. He walked with a small limp caused by the pain in his left hip and he often complained of his fingers getting stiff easily. He had a piece of parchment in his had and once he was close, Sansa could see the worry on his face. 

“A raven came my Lady. Lord Stark is not back from the village and I thought it would be best that someone should see this right away.” Maester Luwin handed the parchment to Catelyn. Sansa could see the Tully seal closing the letter inside. She watched as her mother open the scroll and her face turn grim. She let out a heavy sigh.

“Well this is to be expected, I suppose. But much sooner than he wanted.” Her mother said as her lips displayed a small thin line. Catelyn looked back at Maester Luwin. “We will have to prepare the spare rooms, we are to have a visiter.” 

“Whose coming?” Sansa asked. She wanted to read that parchment but she knew that her mother would never allow it. Robb only was privy to matters of the North because he was the heir and would one day be Warden of the North. Catelyn wanted to protect the rest of her children for as long as she could.

“A tax collector.” The three of them began to walk briskly toward the castle. “He is an old friend and a few members of the royal guard will be joining him.” That was wise, Sansa thought. If he was coming to collect a good bit of money for the Iron Throne, then it would be necessary for him to have a guard with him. If he didn't, he would be the perfect target for thieves. 

“Is he coming from Kings Landing my lady?” Maester Luwin asked. It took a month at least to travel from Kings Landing to the North. If that was the case, they would have some time to prepare and perhaps get their affairs in order.

“No. The letter was from my brother, Lord Baelish just collected his taxes. He left the Riverlands a week ago so he will be here in a few days if the weather permits.” Catelyn stated and Sansa pondered the name. Petyr Baelish. The name was completely foreign to her. It didn't surprise her though, her mother rarely talked about her childhood or any of the friends she had as a child. She always assumed it had to do with her engagement to her uncle Brandon and her uncle's death.

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“At your aunt's funeral.” Her aunt Lysa died two years ago and it was quite the scandal. It seemed that her aunt's personal musician had fallen in love with her and was displeased when she didn't return his affections. When Lysa rejected him a final time, the musician threw her aunt through the moon door. Her mother was gone for a solid month for the funeral. It was around the same time her father, Robb and some of the banner men had to travel to the Wall in order to assist with a Wilding problem. 

“If he is an old friend, perhaps he will be.....I don't know...kind to us?” Sansa asked and she knew she sounded foolish. When it came to matters of coin, no one was kind. Catelyn gave her a small smile. She was proud of who her daughter became but enjoyed that Sansa still showed some signs of innocence. She wanted her to hang onto that part of her for as long as possible. 

“I knew Petyr along time ago. He is not the same small boy I once knew. Who knows what he will do.” Catelyn stated as she walked up the stone steps of Winterfell. Sansa stopped and watched her mother leave her behind. She looked around and felt the light snow fall around her. Her mind buzzed with one question.

Who exactly was Petyr Baelish and why has her mother never mentioned him before?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa learns not only what could possibly be the fate of the North but her own as well.

The ancient dining hall was chilly and it wasn't just the snow that made the Stark family quiver. Even with the fire crackling in the gates, the stone walls felt as though the white walkers have descended upon Winterfell. Yet, the other worldly creatures never made it past the Wall. Jon Snow, as Lord Commander, always kept the North and the Seven Kingdoms safe from what laid beyond the Wall. It had been years since a white walker made it past the Wall. The only sign of the lingering winter was the snow outside the castle walls, and even that was thinning. 

The chill that made them all silent was the fact that the Lord of Winterfell was in a foul mood. Since coming back from the village earlier in the day and reading the raven that had been sent from the Riverlands, Ned had donned the Lord of Winterfell mask and never removed it. His relationship with King Robert was not what it once was. At one point Ned looked at Robert as a brother, even naming his first born son after him, but ever since Ned refused to take the position as Hand of the King, Robert was never able to look at his old friend the same. Robert understood the need for Ned to stay in Winterfell, for the sake of his family, but Robert felt as though it was a personal betrayal.

Robert still attempted to join their houses through Joffery and Sansa, but the attempt failed. He would visit the Starks with Joffery once a year in hopes that something would blossom between the two nobles. He was willing to travel in the dead of winter and when he got desperate, had Joffery fostered with the Starks for a few months. But now, when the engagement had been called off and with the snow not falling as thick or has heavy has it had in the middle of winter, the king sends a small man to collect his taxes. Not being bothered to make an appearance himself. To Ned, that felt as though Robert was trying to say how unimportant their friendship had been.

He was not looking forward to Lord Baelish's visit. While he knew that his wife was friends with him when they were children, and besides the stories Brandon would tell him before he died, Catelyn never told him much about the Master of Coin. She would only say that he was like a little brother to her. She said that he would never betray her. Yet, here he is, coming all the way to Winterfell to collect their people's money. He knew that Lord Baelish was coming on the command of the King but Ned was far to angry with the King to really see the difference. 

Ned shook himself from his musings and looked around the table. He noticed that someone was missing. He sighed and tapped his calloused fingers on the wooden table while his free hand dug deep into the silver goblet.

“Where is Theon?” He asked. Robb diverted his eyes, causing a soft brown curl to hang in his eyes. That was what told his parents that he was withholding something. While Bran had once looked at his feet before he told a lie, Robb could not look either of them directly in the eye. It was a sign of weakness and Ned tried to break him of it. How could he be the Lord of Winterfell when everyone knew if he was going to lie? Of course, he tried to teach Robb and all of his children that it was never in the best interest to lie and the honorable path in life was honesty. “Robb, do you know where he is?” 

“Down at the village, he didn't return with me. He wanted to stay behind.” When Ned had gotten word that a raven had come for him, he left Robb and Theon in the village with a few banner man, knowing that Robb could handle the duties without him. Ned galloped up the mud covered road and directly to Winterfell. He never stopped to think that his ward would not return once the issue with village well water was completed. 

Missing the evening meal was becoming something of a habit for Theon. It started when the Greyjoys fell from their position. The Iron Islands had gone bankrupt early, long before any of the other kingdoms. Most say it was because of their rebellion against King Robert's early days on the throne. If they had just accepted the new king, things might have gone differently for them. When the news reached Winterfell, Theon took it harshly. He had always assumed that he would return home, and become Lord of the Iron Islands. Since their fall from grace, that was no longer a possibility. Theon felt lost and with very little purpose. Was he simply going to stay at Winterfell forever? Serve the people who took him from his home till his dying days? He simply didn't know.

“He is at the whorehouse again, isn't he?” Ned asked with a displeased sigh. It wouldn't be the first time Ned had to track down his ward at such an establishment. He didn't take any joy from going to places where women were forced to sell themselves. Yet, Theon visited them more often than Ned was pleased to learn. More than once he has gone down to the brothel and pulled a drunken Theon from the arms of some whore. 

“Ned!” Catelyn said sharply, her eyes darting toward Rickon and Arya. The last snorted in her wine glass. Arya was no fool and she knew exactly what went on down in the village brothels.

“Forgive me.” Ned said to his wife with a small smile. Catelyn just gave him that loving look but he knew that he would pay for that later. When it came to her children, Catelyn was fiercely protective, especially after losing one of her own. “But Theon should be here. We need to discuss Lord Baelish's visit.” 

“When is he coming Father?” Sansa asked politely. She was curious of course. She spoke briefly with Arya to see if she learned anything from her wonderings. If anyone would have heard some useful gossip, it would be Arya. They didn't have time to speak privately, but Arya hinted that she heard a few details but wanted to verify how accurate they were before speaking on them. Arya promised that Sansa would be the first to know what she had learned. The castle was abuzz with the news and surely rumors were bound to fly. 

“We should expect him within a few days. A week at most.” Ned stated. His shoulders tensed and his children could see that he was uneasy. Their father was normally gentle and didn't let his anger show in front of them, but this was different. 

“How much does the North owe to the Throne?” Robb asked. Ned sighed and his forehead creased. He stopped tapping his fingers and began to trace the small slash in the wood. Arya had created that slash a few years prior when she learned how to use a knife. 

“40,000 gold dragons.” Ned said with a hint of worry in his tone. Catelyn's eyes grew wide. She knew that it would be a steep price but she never expected that much. Sansa looked down at her plate and felt gnawing pain of guilt in her stomach. The conversation she had with her mother earlier in the day played on her mind and she knew she was being selfish. Knowing that the North was close to going bankrupt, changed her perspective slightly. She never wanted to get married, not now. In truth, she didn't care about the North, she gave up on fairytales a long time ago, but she loved her family. If making a wealthy match meant saving her family and saving Winterfell, she might be willing to take those vows. She only asked that they allowed her input of the decision on who she married. 

“Can we afford that?” Robb asked seriously. Ned didn't answer for several minutes, still tracing that slash in the table.

“The winter was harsh. Some of the families will not be able to pay their taxes...the Karstarks, the Umbers and we all know what happened to the Boltons.” When Roose Bolton's estate, Dreadfort began loosing money, he became even more ruthless in his commands and toward his treatment of his servants. Roose normally had a strong handle on his bastard Ramsey, but he let the boy do what he pleased and that mounted in a high body count. Eventually the servants turned on their masters and when Ned went to Dreadfort in order to intervene, he was too late and both Roose and Ramsey took on their own sigil. 

Sansa shuddered. 

“Are we able to pay it?” Catelyn asked worried tone. She ran through all the connections she had and came up empty. The Vale wouldn't help, not since her sister's death. The Riverlands were a possibility but she knew that her brother, Edmure, just received a visit from Petyr. While she knew the Riverlands were in decent standing, she didn't think they could afford the extra expense. 

“Lord Baelish and I will be ridding to each house in order to collect. We will get what we can. We will have to cover what the families that can't pay. It will be difficult and we may have to go without a few luxuries but we will manage.” Ned stated and for a moment, Sansa thought her father was a fool. He was a great lord, that was for sure but he was too nobel and kind for his own good. Why pay the taxes of other families? She knew that if the Starks made up the difference, those families might be able to survive. However, how much would that cost the Starks? Why should her family end up in a similar position as the Boltons simply because a few nobel families can't pay their taxes. Winter was harsh on everyone.

She once would have admired her father for such an action but now she thought he was being foolish. Sansa looked over to Robb and could see the consequences playing on his mind, but he would always agree with their father. Robb would one day be Warden of the North and he would rule with the same nobility as the man who ruled before him. 

“Once summer is here, things will get easier.” The remainder of the evening meal was a somber affair. All their minds were occupied on how the North would be able to pay the taxes to the Iron Throne. Sansa knew that their best chance at saving the Stark name, and not becoming another story like the Boltons, was for her and possibly Arya to make a good marriage. She knew Arya hated the thought of being forced into a marriage almost as much as Sansa did. She knew that no one would love her for herself, but instead want her for what she could give them. 

Once the meal ended and the family members went their separate ways, Sansa wondered the castle. The halls were cold and damp. Torches that hung upon the stone walls causing a small amount of light to the dark hallways. Sansa walked slowly, letting her skirt dust the ground. She ran her fingers over the stone, letting herself feel the grime on the tips of her fingers. She paused at a painting of one of the old Kings of the North. Bran the Builder founded Winterfell and built the Wall. Part of her wished that the North was still its individual kingdom. She would have been a princess and she wondered if life would have been easier. She pulled away from the wall and continued down the hall.

Sansa neared her father's solar and she heard her parent's voices inside. She had planned to simply pass by the solar and leave her parents to their time alone but when she heard her father say her name she paused outside the wooden door that stood ajar. She knew that they wouldn't be able to see her but if she moved, they might hear the swish of her skirts or he tapping of her shoes.

“It would be best if she was married soon.” Ned's voice sounded grave and Sansa knew that her father hated the thought of selling his daughter off to the highest bidder. Yet, that was how the world worked for noble women in the seven kingdoms. Sansa hated it but she understood that it was her role to play. She didn't want a husband but she knew her place and she was to be a great lady. 

“The Vale is prospering. The families there are doing far better than any of the seven kingdoms. Making a match with one of the families of the Vale might be the best course of action.” Catelyn stated. 

“I hear Harrold Hardyng is looking for a bride.” Ned mused. The name was unfamiliar to Sansa and she wondered how many people in the kingdoms she didn't know. This was the second name in the span of a day that she has never heard of before. She knew the names the the houses who ruled over the kingdoms but the lesser houses always were foreign to her. “I think Sansa would like him. He is like a knight out of those songs she loves to sing and is very talented when it comes to a tourney. I will write to Lord Royce and learn what I can of the young man. If Lord Hardyng is indeed looking for a bride, then we shall entertain the idea.” Ned stated but his wife was silent for a few moments. 

“I know it has been two years since I have been to the Vale but young Robin was very ill. If he still is unwell, Lord Hardyng is his heir. If Robin would die, Hardyng becomes Lord of the Vale.” 

“And if Sansa marries him, she would one day be Lady of the Vale.” Ned said. At that moment, Sansa didn't want to hear anymore. She didn't want to be Lady of the Vale. She raised her hand to knock on the solar's door. “Come in.”

Sansa stepped into the solar slowly and placed a look of pure innocence on her face. She wore a small, loving smile and let the tension fall from her body. She didn't want her parents to realize that she had been eavesdropping on them. 

“Do you need something dear?” Catelyn asked her daughter. The Lady of Winterfell eyes her eldest girl wondering if she had heard any part of the conversation that was held only moments prior. Upon inspection neither Ned nor herself could tell if something was amiss with their daughter. 

“Maester Luwin said that the weather might be warming soon and I was wondering if you knew where my summer cloak had gotten too?” Sansa knew that if she simply passed the door she would have been seen by one if not both of her parents. If she turned back, she risked the chance of her parents hearing her leave. She found that her best option was to go inside the solar. However, she would need a reason as to why she was there. 

Sansa was also curious. She loved her family but she didn't always trust that they would tell her everything. If her parents thought it was in her best interest, then they would withhold anything they thought could possibly cause her harm and she hated it. She hated being sheltered. Little did they know how far from sheltered she had become. She wanted them to come to her and tell her about a possible marriage to this Lord Hardyng. She wanted to be able to tell them that she didn't want to marry him. She didn't want them to tell her because she overheard them whispering about it when they thought no one could hear them. She just wanted her mother to keep her promise. She wanted to see if they would lie to her. 

In order for her to avoid a lecture on eavesdropping and to see if her parents would really consider letting her make her own choices, or if they would choose a husband for her, she had chosen to lie and hopefully time would tell what their intentions where. Sansa found that the best lies always came from half truths. Maester Luwin did say that the snow would lighten and the weather would slowly warm. So, in theory it would be better for her to dig out her summer cloak, even if summer was a few months if not a year off. However, she knew exactly where that cloak was. 

“The last I saw it was in the trunk with your summer dresses but it might have gotten moved in with Arya's things.” Catelyn stated. “When you do find it, bring it to me along with Arya's. Both of you have grown since winter has come. You might need a new summer cloak....well you might need a whole new set of dresses also.” With that Catelyn and Ned shared a look. Fabric could be expensive. 

“Lets wait for summer to arrive before the two of you start sewing a whole new wardrobe.” Ned stated in a joking manner but his tone held a worried hint to it. Sansa knew what her father wasn't saying. Lets pay the taxes and see if they could afford to have clothes when summer arrived. 

“Okay, well, I am headed in for the night.” With that Sansa crossed the solar and kissed her parents goodnight. When she was out into the darkened hall and well out of earshot of her parents, she leaned against the stone wall near Bran the Builder's painting. She wondered if this Harrold Hardyng would be kind to her if she was forced to marry him. Or would he be just as cruel and abusive as Joffery?


	3. Chapter 3

It was an uncharacteristically warm day. The sun shown brightly through the leave-less trees. The snow was light and Sansa was almost willing to forgo her winter cloak. The cloak was heavy and it made her uncomfortably warm. She considered pulling out her summer cloak but her mother had it in her possession and she knew her mother would not take kindly to the idea of her child outside in the cold with only a light cloak. Sansa was a Stark of Winterfell, the cold did not frighten her but her mother grew up in the Riverlands and was still not accustomed to the cold as the rest of her family.

Sansa strolled along the grounds, which had become a common occurrence after being inside for long periods over the winter, with Jeyne Poole latched onto her arm. Jeyne was beautiful, with long dark brown hair that matched her wide brown eyes, and at one point Sansa thought Jeyne was her closest friend. As time moved on and Sansa matured, Jeyne seemed to stay the same childish girl. While Sansa still enjoyed the young girl's company, she had learned to simply tune out the useless chatter. 

Before winter came, Sansa acted in the same manner as her friend. They would giggle like most girls do over boys and the dresses they would sew. They spent an agonizing amount of time picking the fabric and wondering if the knight in shining armor that would one day sweep them off their feet would like that color on them. When Joffery came with his family when King Robert asked Ned to be the Hand of the King, the two young girls would rave over how handsome the prince was. Sansa used to believe that his golden hair and blue eyes were the most handsome thing she had ever seen. They would spend every night in Sansa's chambers dreaming about what it would be like when Sansa became queen. Sansa would promise Jeyne that she would take her to Kings Landing and make her a lady in waiting. 

When the engagement ended, Jeyne couldn't understand why Sansa wasn't distraught over the fact that she would not become Joffery's wife. Everyone, besides Arya, thought that she was heartbroken over the end to the engagement. She was heartbroken but not because she wouldn't become Queen Sansa of House Baratheon. Yet, Jeyene, while she was childish and naive, knew her friend and she could tell that there was a happiness to her that wasn't there toward the end of her engagement. It confused the steward's daughter. To her, Joffery was the prince that the songs always sang about, and not the monster Sansa knew he was. 

“Have you spoken with Theon?” Jeyne asked in a sly voice. While she never directly told Sansa, the Stark girl knew that her friend developed romantic feelings for the young iron born, mainly because Theon was Jeyne's favorite topic to discuss. Sansa almost felt sad for Jeyne. Theon would only give Jeyne attention if she would open her legs for him. As far as Sansa knew, Theon had no indication of the girl's feeling for him because if he did, Sansa knew he would attempt to take the girl to bed. 

Tears aren't a woman's only weapon. The best ones between your legs. Cersei's voice chimed in her head. She remembered the queen nurturing tone as Cersei patted her head gently. It took everything Sansa had to hold back the bile that rose up in her throat. 

“No, I believe he went into the village today.” Most of Theon's time was spent down at either the local tavern or brothel. Theon was self-destructing and no matter how much Catelyn tried to shield her children from what was happening, they could tell that he was spiraling. Both Ned and Robb attempted to help him but Theon practically pushed them all away. It was as though he blamed the Starks for what happened to his family. “He might return soon though.” Sansa stated.

In reality she had no idea when Theon would return from the village. Lady padded out of the woods and over to Sansa. She met the direwolf and wrapped her arms around the wolf's neck. She buried her head into the direwolf's fur. If there was one thing left in the world that Sansa trusted, it was this direwolf. Jeyne watched Sansa cuddle the wolf and shuddered. She was never fond of the wolves. 

“I think I will go and wait by the gates.” Jeyne stated as she sent Lady a withering look and started to walk off. Sansa smiled in relief. She couldn't bare to answer endless questions regarding Theon. She liked the man well enough, or at least she had, but she never really saw the appeal, especially when he reeked of wine and some whore's perfume. 

“Yes, that seems like a splendid idea, doesn't it Lady?” Sansa continued to stroke the wolf's fur and it caused Lady to give out a satisfied purr. She broke away slightly and began to walk toward the Godswood and in the opposite direction of Jeyne. When she got close to the Godswood, Sansa paused and turned her head when she heard the distinct clank of metal meeting metal. She smiled lightly and turned her course toward the sound. She moved amongst the trees and into a small clearing that she forgot existed. She was about a half a mile from the Godswood. The clearing was small. She could tell that during the summer season, this clearing would be overcome with wild grass, plants and animals. It would be impossible to access because of the growth and in the dead of winter, the snow would be piled far to high. 

Sansa stopped, leaned against a tree and crossed her arms with a small smile on her face. Arya was fencing with Robb and they were being supervised by Ser Rodrik. While she never understood Arya's desire to learn how to wheeled a sword, she couldn't deny that Arya had a gracefulness to her. It was as though the sword was true calling. 

“You're dropping your shoulder.” Robb stated in a gentle but stern voice. “If you continue to do so, you're dead. It leaves a spot open and any experienced swordsman could easily strike.” Sansa could see that Arya didn't appreciate being corrected. She waited a moment before she lunged, swung Needle as though it was an extension of her arm. Robb was taken aback, not expecting the assault. Arya knocked her elder brother to the ground and he landed with a soft thunk. Arya pointed Needle at Robb, who was lying flat on his back. 

“Perhaps you should be prepared for a surprise attack because any experiences swordsman would use that to his advantage.” Robb smirked as Ser Rodrik didn't attempt to hold back his laughter. His belly jiggled as his laughter rippled through the trees. Sansa broke into a wide smiled and began to clap loudly. Three heads turned toward her and she could see the embarrassment cross Robb's face. Robb was one of the best swordsman that Sansa knew, not that she knew many. Their father even said that Robb surpassed Ser Rodrik. While it wasn't common for Robb to attend Arya's lessons, if he had a free afternoon, he always enjoyed teaching his younger sister the proper technique when it came to matters of the sword. 

“I think that is quite enough for today, Arya.” Ser Rodrik stated. He held out his hand for Robb, who grabbed ahold of it and the Master-at-Arms pulled the heir to Winterfell to his feet. “I look forward to telling your children about the time you were bested by your fifteen year old sister.” 

“Maybe you will, or maybe you will be to senile to remember such a story.” Robb responded with narrowed eyes but a small smirk played on his lips. This caused Ser Rodrik to give another full belly laugh. 

“Perhaps you're right.” The older gentleman stated. He looked at the three Stark children and gave them a warm smile “Remember, I want no knowledge of these lessons.” With that he gave them one last smile and bid them ado. He made his way out of the clearing. Robb and Arya grabbed their swords and shields. The three of them started to head out of the clearing and back towards the castle. They could make out Ser Rodrick's footprints in the snow and they could see him walking up ahead. 

Robb looked around and only saw Lady padding behind them. He sighed in irritation but continued to walk in silence before deciding to speak.

“What are you doing this far outside the castle walls alone? Do you have any guards with you? The Godswood is one thing when Father is with you but wondering this far alone!” Robb stated. He was protective of Sansa, far more so than either Arya and Rickon. He blamed himself for not being there when she needed him the most. He would never be able to forgive himself if something truly horrible happened to his sister. For as long as he could remember, Sansa had been apart of his life. He remembered the days that Arya, Bran and Rickon were born, but Sansa had always just been there, playing with her dolls and singing her songs. 

“I was heading toward the Godswood when I heard your sword-fighting and I had Lady with me. She could do far more damage than any guard.” It was true and she knew Robb agreed with her. She wasn't going to let fear rule her. If she let her past nightmares haunt her, she would never be able to leave her chambers. No, Sansa was the eldest daughter of Winterfell. She was made of steel and the cold. 

“If the Wildlings-” 

“The Wildlings don't scare me.” Sansa countered. They reached the front of Winterfell and Robb turned to his sister. She was stubborn and always had been. Robb took her arm gently and Arya just looked between her older siblings. She wanted to intervene and tell Robb that it wasn't what he thought but she knew better. This was Sansa's secret and the wasn't about to betray that.

“They should. I don't want to see you like that again.” Robb stated and for a moment, Sansa felt sorry for him but the moment was fleeting. She knew that he had her best interest at heart but the last time her family did what they thought was best, she ended up bruised and broken. Robb leaned in and kissed Sansa's forehead. “Get Arya inside and make sure mother doesn't see her. If she does then the Wildlings are the last thing we need to worry about.” With that Robb took Arya's shield from her and headed through the gates of Winterfell while the two girls walked along the stone wall towards the servants entrance in the back. 

“You should just tell him.” Arya pleaded. While she loved the relationship she now had with her sister, part of her couldn't help but miss the old Sansa. The Sansa that would have cried if her dress got messy or when Arya would fling food at her during dinner. This Sansa was hard and cold. She had this mask that she wore around their family and only when they were alone, Arya could see how tired her older sister was.

“No.”

“If you just-”

“I said no. You don't understand.” Sansa stated with a harsh formality. Arya stopped and grabbed her arm, forcing Sansa to come to a halt. The shorter of the two looked up and met Sansa's eye. She had the forcefulness in her eyes that almost made Sansa falter. 

“I don't understand? Who found you? Who covered you up? Who got Maester Luwin to make sure you were okay? Who came up with the story about the Wildlings? Who covered for you? Me. I lied to my own family for you.” Sansa looked away but she knew that her sister was still gazing at her. They didn't talk about it often but when they did, the outcome always stayed the same.

“You already told Jon, isn't that enough? They can never know.” She stepped forward and leaned down. She took Arya into her arms and held her. Sansa wasn't one for affection but she tried and Arya always treasured those small moments. “Look, let's not talk about, okay. Not now. Let's get inside and get you into proper lady's attire before mother finds you with a sword. And I do believe that you owe me some gossip.” Sansa smiled and Arya nodded but had her lips pursed in a very similar way that their mother's did when she was cross.

Sansa felt relieved. She didn't want Arya to push anymore. Part of her wished that her sister never found her but she knew that she would be dead otherwise. It was cold that night and the snow was unforgiving. If Lady wasn't there, Sansa knew that she would have frozen to death. She pulled herself from her thoughts as they neared the entrance. 

Arya and Sansa quietly pushed the gate open and hasty ran across the yard where the roasters and hens were kept. They slipped into the kitchens and froze. They could hear their mother speaking with the cook about the meals that would be provided while their guest were residing with them. If Catelyn saw her youngest daughter dressed in boys clothes and covered in mud, the two girls knew how much trouble Arya would be in. 

Arya grabbed Sansa's hand and pulled her toward a small wooden door. The younger girl opened the door and shoved her inside. Arya squeezed in behind her. It was a storage area of sorts. Sansa could see potatoes, herbs and a few other items that would be needed for cooking. Arya moved herself so she was toward the back of the storage room and tapped on the back wall. Sansa nearly jumped and part of the wall popped open. A wave of dust appeared and Arya grabbed her sister's hand again. She pulled her through the door and up a stairway. At the top of the stairway was a door and Arya pushed on the door. They slipped through the door and ended up in the corridor near Arya's chambers. 

“How long has that been there?” Sansa asked in complete bewilderment. She had lived in Winterfell all her life and she never knew that passageway had always been hidden away. Arya laughed.

“I discovered it when I was five. Remember when I broke that doll you loved? You were so angry with me that I ran and had to find a place to hide. I think I hid in that passageway for about four hours.” Arya stated as they reached her chambers. She opened her door and let Sansa in behind her. She closed the door and latched the bolt at the top of the door. The last thing they wanted was their mother barging in on them while they were cleaning Arya up.

“I remember that! I was so furious but when our parents couldn't find you they nearly had all the banner-men searching the woods for you! When you magically turned up they were so relieved that you received no punishment, which made me even more angry!” Sansa giggled. She could feel herself relaxing. Arya was the only person in Winterfell, although she was pretty certain Maester Luwin suspected, who knew her secret and because of that, she could feel herself slipping back into what she referred to as the old Sansa. 

Arya started to pull her muddy clothes off and walked over to basin. She had asked one of the servant girls to have a basin of water brought up to her chambers around mid-afternoon. By now the water would be cold but Arya was more than willing to deal with the icy water. It would be too suspicious if she called for a bath now. Arya began to rinse the muck and grim off her skin while Sansa went through her trunk looking for a dress. She grabbed a dark green dress, mainly because light colors got dirty easily in the cold winter. Mud would show easily on the hem of the dress. 

Once Arya's clothes were picked out and laid out on the bed, Sansa walked over to the vanity and picked up her sister's brush. As the younger Stark girl washed herself, Sansa untangled the chocolate locks that were being held up by a ribbon. One by one she brushed the strands of her sisters hair. 

“Tell me, did you learn anything about Lord Hardyng?” She asked. While she was most curious about this Petyr Baelish character, she was more concerned about Lord Hardyng. Lord Baelish would only be in her life for a month at most and then he would be on his way back to Kings Landing. However, if her parents decided that this Harrold Hardyng would make a good son-in-law, she would be stuck with him for life. 

“Honestly, nothing of interest.” Arya stated and her elder sister sighed in disappointment. “I tried but I couldn't ask to many questions. You don't want mother and father to know you over heard them talking.” 

“I know, I was just hoping to learn something about the man I might be forced to marry.” Sansa said. She didn't want to walk blind into another engagement. She wanted to know exactly what kind of man she would be bound to. Of course, there was the chance that she wouldn't even end up engaged to him and if she had anything to do with it, she wouldn't. 

“Do you honestly think they will make you marry him if you didn't want to?” Arya stated and walked from the basin toward the bed. She picked up the chaise and slipped into it. Sansa grabbed the corset and wrapped it around her sisters middle. She began tightening it as she spoke.

“If they didn't believe that the Lannisters had something to do with Bran's death, I would be married to Joffery by now.” Sansa stated an Arya turned. The elder of the two picked up the green dress and helped her sister step into it. “And as far as I know, they have nothing against the Hardygn's. Why wouldn't they marry me off to him?” 

“I guess you're right.” Arya stated. She was silent as she slipped on a pair of dark stockings and a pair of small slippers. Once dressed, she grabbed an outer clock that would be worn indoors to keep her from catching a chill. Arya pinned the cloak around her in a similar manner as her mother. She walked over to her vanity and looked at herself in the small mirror. Sansa came up behind her and began combing her hair again. Arya was not very talented when it came to doing her hair but Sansa had always been gifted in that area. “Do you think of him?” 

“Of who?”

“Bran.” Sansa froze slightly but continued to work on her sisters hair.

“Everyday.” 

“I think about him. About how he loved to climb and how excited he was to join the King's Guard when he grew up. Its all he talked about.” She stopped for a moment and took a deep breath. “And I think about those few days before he died. I can still hear his shallow breathing and I can see their faces . I see you in that woods and I hate them even more. I say their names every night and I dream about how I am going to kill them.” With that Sansa put the brush down and turned to her sister. She placed her hands gently on Arya's shoulders and looked her directly in the eye.

“Listen to me. Never say that. Ever. If the wrong person hears you, it would be considered treason and they will put your head on a spike. When King Robert passes and Joffery takes the throne, who knows what he will do.”

It was hard on their father when he turned down the hand of the kind. The only reason he even considered taking the position was because he believed his friend, the king, was in danger. Ned had to choose between his family and the man he once called a brother. It was a decision that nearly tore him apart but he did what he believed to be honorable and right.

“Do you pray to the old gods that King Robert will have a long life?”

“I don't pray to the old gods anymore.” Sansa stated. Arya didn't respond to that and as Sansa thought on it, she couldn't remember the last time her younger sister entered the Godswood when it didn't involve a fencing lesson. “But let us not talk of that anymore. Tell me, what have you learned of Petyr Baelish?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter was getting really long, so I ended up splitting it into two parts.


	4. Chapter 4

Arya turned on the seat and smirked. Sansa knew what she learned would have to be highly interesting. She expected as much. While there were no whisperings about Lord Hardyng, she knew there would be about Lord Baelish. Outside her father's solar, Hardyng's name never was mentioned and if Arya suddenly started asking questions, then it would raise some eyebrows. Yet, Sansa knew that the North was going to be abuzz with the news of the Master of Coin, and most of those people would not be happy with his coming. Why should they be? Here comes a man that they have never met, demanding money simply because the Iron Throne commanded it. Those people are not going to be willing to hand over several thousands gold dragons especially if it means a fate similar to the Boltons or Greyjoys. 

Sansa knew that her father and Lord Baelish would be traveling around the North, one family at a time. They would visit one family, collect the taxes and then bring the gold back. They would be gone for a few days at a time before returning and preparing for the next family. Their mother said that Lord Baelish would be with them for several weeks, if not months. 

Arya asked why they wouldn't just didn't visit each family in a consecutive order. Ned replied that it was because the gold would be to heavy for the horses to carry all the way back to Winterfell. When Arya asked about the gold making it back to King's Landing, Ned replied that Lord Baelish had sent each kingdoms taxes back in a carriage and an armed guard to accompany it. Lord Baelish hasn't been in King's Landing for close to a year. 

Arya stood from the vanity and walked over to her chamber door. She leaned up against it and placed her ear against the wood. She wanted to make sure no one was standing outside her chamber who could possibly be listening to what she had to say. Arya was a very good eavesdropper and she knew that others could be just as good. When she was satisfied, she turned back and climbed on her fur covered bed and sat in a very unladylike position, with legs sprawled open and her dress riding up her legs. Sansa followed in suit but sat in a more dignified manner with her legs crossed and hanging off the side of the bed.

“Well, Maester Luwin and Ser Rodrik gossip worse than those barmaids down at the tavern.” Arya laughed joyfully. “You know he grew up with mother, correct? Mother and Lord Baelish, I mean.” Arya asked and Sansa nodded her head, indicating that she had indeed heard that from their mother's own lips. “Well, apparently he was in love with her when they were children.” 

“You're joking?!” Sansa's ice blue eyes widened. She laughed lightly. It would explain why her mother never spoke of him. Even though Ned had a bastard son, he didn't like the thought of another man being in love with his wife, even if it was years in the past. She wondered if her father knew of the Lord's affection and if he did, it could explain her father was taking this visit as harshly as he was.

“Nope. When mother was engaged to our uncle Brandon, he challenged our uncle to a duel that nearly killed him.” Arya stated with intrigue. It shocked Sansa but Arya liked learning things about people. She liked overhearing things she rather shouldn't. She just liked being in places she knew she shouldn't be and that was always when she learned the most interesting information. 

“Nearly?” 

“Mother stepped in. Apparently she begged for his life and then once he recovered, our grandfather had him sent back to his home in the Fingers. Our mother never contacted him or saw him again until Aunt Lysa's funeral.” Sansa felt sorry for the young boy. Her father always talked about his older brother with affection but would he really have killed a young boy, simply because he loved his fiance? Now all the stories her father told her lost their luster. Sansa shook herself, she should know better. Everyone has their demons, even the dead and apparently her uncle would have killed a young boy simply because he challenged him. 

“Do you think he still loves mother?” Sansa asked and Arya simply gave a shrug, indicating that she had no idea. The younger girl shifted on the bed, stretched her legs out and leaned back against one of her bed posts. 

“I honestly don't know but from what Maester Luwin said, I highly doubt it.” Arya gave a smirk and paused. “ I doubt it because he married our aunt two months before she died.” That shocked Sansa that she turned so quickly that it caused her to topple off the bed. She landed on her back with a hard thud. She groaned and she knew that she would have a bruise in the morning. She could hear her sister's laughter coming from the bed. Sansa looked up and saw that Arya had move to be laying on her stomach, looking down at her. “Very graceful.” 

“Yet, still far more ladylike than you will ever be.” Sansa snapped with narrowed eyes. She leaned up on her elbows and watched her sister continue to laugh at her. At one point it would have angered her greatly to hear her sister laughing at her in such a manner. Now, she found it rather enduring. Out of everyone in Winterfell and in the North, Arya was the only person Sansa felt she had any type of trust with anymore. “So he is our uncle?” 

“I guess you could look at it like that but his marriage was so short, could he still be considered family?” Arya paused and sat up. “There was one thing that Ser Rodrik said that I found...I don't know...strange I suppose.” 

“What is it?”

“Well remember how Ser Rodrick went to the Vale with mother when Aunt Lysa died?” She asked and Sansa nodded. In truth she remembered everything from that period in time and she hated thinking about it. “Well, he saw Lord Baelish and he said that he didn't appear to be, depressed or so any emotion at all really.” 

“What are you saying? You think he wasn't upset that Aunt Lysa was murdered?” Sansa asked. She had never met her Aunt Lysa, but if rumors were true, she wasn't exactly in her right mind. There were rumors that she still breastfed her son even though he was nearing the age of ten. Her mother said the boy was sickly and Sansa could only assume it was because the mother was as well. 

“Exactly. He wasn't even in the castle when she died. He learned of her death when he returned and..nothing. It was as though it was just another day.” Arya stated and Sansa felt relieved but she couldn't explain why. 

Sansa leaned forward and pulled herself up. She walked over to the bed and held out her hand. Arya took a hold of it and let her sister lead her over to the vanity in order for her to finish her sister's hair. Arya sat down on the seat and Sansa began to pull the chocolate strands into a simple hairstyle. 

“There is one thing I do find strange though.” Sansa stated and her younger sister looked at her in the mirror. “So this Lord Baelish loved our mother, was willing to fight in a duel for her and lost miserably. He was then sent off back home to the...Fingers?” Arya nodded in agreement and hissed slightly as her sister pulled to hard on a strand of hair. “Oh, hush. I didn't pull that hard. So he was sent back home, away from the women he thought he loved, never to speak to her again. Most likely learning that she didn't even marry the man who nearly killed him, and I'm guessing at this but it would have made him angry.”

“Why would that have made him angry?” Arya asked. Her brow creased in confusion. Sansa smiled lightly. She wished she had that same innocence still. She understood what it was like to truly hate someone. Arya said that she hated the Lannisters and Sansa knew that her sister truly believed that. However, hate took effort. It was all consuming. It caused a burning fire and blind rage that caused Sansa wanting to watch them die a slow and painful death. If Joffery died, and she had no part of it, she knew that it would leave her disappointed and possibly restless. 

“Because he had no part in his death and our mother simply married his brother. If our uncle never died and she married him, at least his sacrifice would have meant something but his death and our parents marriage most likely made it seem worthless. Or at least that is how I would have felt.” Sansa stated as she finished the final touches of Arya's hair. The younger girl turned.

“You make our parent's marriage seem so cold. It's not like that.” Her voice was low but her eyes locked with Sansa's. Sansa knew that her parents loved each other and in a perfect world, she would love to have that but she also knew that it didn't start that way. It was built over time. 

“Now. But when our parents got married, cold is exactly what it was. Jon is proof of that.” Arya looked away. “But that is besides the point. What I am trying to say is that this Lord Baelish loved our mother but then married her sister? If he still loved her, I don't think he would have married the closest imitation because it wouldn't be good enough. So, no I don't think he still loves mother, or Aunt Lysa for that matter, but this is all guess work of course.” 

“And what makes you say that he didn't love Aunt Lysa?”

“Because as Ser Rodrik said he wasn't distraught that his brand new bride had died. Only a man who had no real feeling for his wife wouldn't be sad if she died. Not to mention if he had something to gain out of her death.” Arya looked at her sister with a raised eyebrow. “Well think about it, our cousin is still very young and this Lord Baelish would have been in step-father. Until Robin becomes of age, Lord Baelish would rule over the Vale.” 

“So you are saying that this Lord Baelish had our aunt murdered in order for him to rule over the Vale, temporarily?” Arya asked. Sansa smiled lightly and shrugged. “Do you have so little faith in a man you've never met?”

“I could be completely wrong but its always better to assume the worst in people instead of the best. That way they can't disappoint you.” Sansa stated and her eyes shifted away from Arya. She focused on a stone wall above her head. Her thoughts drifted and she could feel herself breaking up inside. It was like the tiny steel box she locked all of the horrible things away broke. From time to time she could feel that steel box open and everything she worked to keep buried down was clawing its way to the surface. 

Arya stood from the vanity and walked slowly toward her sister. She placed her hands on her shoulders and pulled into a hug. Sansa relaxed into her arms and began to sob. Sometimes it was just much to difficult to keep everything buried. She was so angry and frustrated that all she wanted to do was light a fire and watch the entirety of Westeros burn.

“I'm so sorry.” Arya whispered and ran her hand down her sisters back. She rocked her as Sansa just cried out her feelings. She needed this and Arya knew it. It had been so long since she let herself cry. She had shut herself down and refused to allow herself to really feel. Slowly, her tears began to fade and she pulled herself away from Arya.

“Sorry. I don't know what came over me.” Sansa stated as she took her sleeve and dried her tears. Arya was about to reply when there was a knock on her door and their mother's voice sounded on the other side. The sisters exchanged a look and they both dived, grabbing a few items, such as Aray's muddy clothes and Needle, shoving them underneath the bed. 

“Coming.” Arya walked slowly over to the door as Sansa was still hiding anything would get Arya into any sort of trouble with their mother. The younger girl unlatched the bolt at the top of the door and opened it to reveal their mother. Catelyn looked worried.

“Arya have you seen-oh Sansa there you are.” Catelyn stated clearly surprised that her eldest daughter was spending time with her sister. Their relationship no longer had Arya throwing food at Sansa while Sansa stated how much she hated having Arya as a sister. While Catelyn loved the closeness the sisters have found over the last couple of years, it still shocked her when she would find them together. “We need the two of you in the courtyard. Riders have been spotted.” 

They exchanged a look and the knew what their mother meant. Lord Baelish is close and the moment they had been anticipating was upon them. Catelyn moved aside and let her daughters pass her. She couldn't help but notice some clothes sticking out from underneath her daughter's bed. If she had time or energy she would demand to know what her daughter was up to. She would just have to push that aside for another time. 

The three of them headed out to the court yard. Ned was there speaking with Maester Luwin and Robb. Rickon was playing with Shaggydog. When Ned saw Catelyn enter with their daughters he made the entirely of the Stark family stand in a single file line, in a similar manner as to the many times King Robert would come with Joffery. 

Sansa thought back to the very first time the King came to Winterfell. She had felt a small burst of excitement inside of her. It was as though she knew her life was going to change. Sansa had that same feeling this time around. Yet, she couldn't help but feel nervous because she placed so much hope on the King's visit and all of that turned to ash. 

She looked around and saw the same fasces that were present as before, except Theon. The ward was missing and that didn't sit right with Sansa. His actions in regard to how he was treating her family irritated her. Ned could have easily turned Theon out when the Greyjoys fell but instead he kept him, taught him and was attempting to help him further himself in life. Yet, Theon did nothing more than to throw Ned's generosity to the ground and spit on it.

It wasn't long before the sound of hooves galloping on muddy ground was heard approaching. The creaking sound of a carriage wheeling its way toward Winterfell could also be heard among the galloping and the snorting of the horses. The first sign of life through the gates were several gold cloaked men on top of horses carrying a banner. 

Don't look at them. Don't look at them. 

Sansa knew that these were the Kings men but the banner they carried had a mockingbird upon it. Sansa couldn't remember any of the great families have a mockingbird as their sigil and it made her wonder even more about who this Lord Baelish was. 

The second thing through the gate was the carriage. It held no flare for it was simply black in color, no design on the side, and no indication of life inside. When the Queen rode in the carriage that brought her to the North, the carriage was brought toward the center in order of her to climb down. This carriage was pushed off toward the side. Gold. It was meant to carry the gold. Sansa thought to herself. 

Once the carriage was pushed toward the side, Sansa could see one man without a gold cloak. When he climbed down from his horse, she could tell several things. He was a small man but there was a forcefulness to him that Sansa couldn't place. He was younger than she anticipated but still old enough to be her father. She expected him to be closer towards Ned's age but he seemed to be about ten years younger than him. She could tell, even though he wore a long black cloak, that this man was wealthy. Just by the type of fabric and the small details in the cloak gave away the fact that this man was just made of money. 

“Cat.” Lord Baelish stated with a small smirk playing across his face. His voice was soft and with and edge that made a chill run down Sansa's spine. Catelyn stepped forward and hugged Baelish for a moment. Sansa could see her mother pull him tightly toward herself but Baelish pulled away far to quickly, something Catelyn seemed startled by. She expected this man to still be in love with her and this man was not. 

“Hello Petyr, how was your journey?” She asked and that never ending smirk never left his features. 

“Long. I'm sure my men would appreciate a rest for themselves and their horses.” Baelish stated and Ned made a movement, signaling Ser Rodrik to take the horses and for Maester Luwin to show the gold cloaks where they would be resting. 

“Of course.” Catelyn moved slightly and Ned stepped forward. “Petyr, this is my husband Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and the Warden of the North.” Most men would have shown how impressed they were to meet such a man with such an impressive title, yet Baelish made no indication of admiration. Instead he locked eyes with the man and gave another smirk. 

“I've hoped to meet you for sometime Lord Stark. No doubt Lady Catelyn mentioned me.” His mannerisms were smooth and exact. Ned eyed him slowly, not exactly trusting the newcomer. 

“She has Lord Baelish. I understand you knew my brother Brandon as well.” He stated and Baelish winced slightly but brushed his comment off with a slight laugh.

“All to well. I still carry a token of his esteem. From navel to collar bone.” His smirk was firmly in place as he made a movement with a gloved hand, sliding up his chest. Sansa couldn't help but look at his hands and she felt a sensation trickle over her, wondering what they looked like when the gloves came off. The movement of his hands and the tone of his voice made her feel a sense of desire she hadn't felt in a long time.

Sansa could tell that this man wasn't going to be bullied by her father. It wasn't that her father treated those below him with inferiority but it was because he view Lord Baelish as a threat. Whether it was because of his past feeling for his wife or because of the reason he was in the North, Sansa could not be sure. 

“Perhaps you choose the wrong person to duel with.” Ned replied.

“Perhaps I did.” He stated and Ned simply eyed him, not exactly sure if he should trust him. Catelyn looked between the man she always viewed as a brother and the man she loved. This was not going to be an easy visit everyone concluded.

“Petyr, meet my children.” She took his arm and brought him toward the the spot Sansa stood with her siblings. “This is Robb my eldest and the heir to Winterfell.” Robb held out his hand and shook Baelish's hand. Robb was sizing him up in a similar fashion that his father had. 

“Yes, I have heard a many great things about young Robb here. I hear that you are rather handy with a sword.” Baelish stated and Robb nodded, not sure how to reply. Her brother was sizing the man up in a very similar fashion as his father had done. Catelyn moved down the line and there he stood, directly in front of her. His grey-green eyes locking with Sansa's ice blue ones. She could feel his eyes trace over her and it made her want to step toward him. 

“This is our daughter Sansa Stark.” Her breath froze as Baelish took her hand and kissed the top of her glove. She couldn't feel his lips on the back of her hand but it was enough for her stomach to drop and excitement to pulse through her. However, he dropped her hand as quickly as he picked it up. She barely heard her mother introduce Arya and Rickon because she was so fixated on his movements. His eyes would flicker toward her every few moments when he spoke with the last two of her siblings. He would smirk and smile but his eyes never showed any type of emotion. 

This man was dangerous, she wanted him and that terrified her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here he is! Let me know what you think of Petyr's first moments in the story.


	5. Chapter 5

The servants were on alert that night. They bustled about making sure that everything was perfect in order to make Lord Baelish's visit less stressful for the Starks. Happy masters meant happy servants. With winter coming to an end, the Starks didn't have anything spectacular or exotic when it came to food or wine, but they did their best with what they could produce. They pulled out the good silver instead of the plates and utensils that the family normally dined with. They wanted to prove to Lord Baelish that the Starks were still standing and would continue to do so. 

The gold cloaks ate with the servants and Sansa was relieved. When they were around, they made her feel uneasy and reminded her of things that she would much rather forget. It was as though everywhere she turned, there was a gold cloak in sight. She would look at their faces to make sure that he wasn't among them. Logically, she knew he wouldn't be. He wouldn't leave Kings Landing just to simply escort the Master of Coin. 

The dining hall only held the Starks along with Lord Baelish and a few servants to pour the wine. Ned and Baelish were speaking, mainly about the state of the North. Ned was wearing the Lord of Winterfell mask to perfection as he was seated at the head of the table. On his left was his wife while Baelish occupied the seat to the right. Robb leaned forward as he was seated beside Baelish and across from Sansa. Everyone was so occupied about the conversation going on between Ned and Baelish that no one paid any attention to Sansa, who was studying their guest. 

She would watch how he would shift in his chair and how his hands would flex when he spoke. Sansa couldn't stop staring at his hands. She remembered how it felt when his hand made contact with her's. They were completely covered and it still sent tingles down her spine. Now his hands were bare and she could see his long fingers trace the silver goblet. She stared at his lips and thought about that small kiss he gave to the back of her hand. Sansa couldn't help but trace that spot where his lips met her gloved hand. 

Most of all, Sansa couldn't help but notice how his eyes would flicker over to her. Those gray-green eyes would consume her in just mere moments before he would focus back on her father. A small grin would play across his thin lips and Sansa wanted to know what was going on behind those sharp features. 

Sansa glanced around the table and it seemed that they all were to focused to notice what was going on right in front of them. Ned was to focused on what Baelish was saying to really notice what his eyes were doing. Catelyn was busy making it blatantly obvious to Baelish that she had no desire for him. Sansa could see that her parents were holding hands on top of the table and yet she could tell that it had no effect on Baelish. It was as though he couldn't care less if Ned and Catelyn really loved each other or not. 

Robb was busy trying to keep up with the conversation. He would input his opinion and thoughts when he felt that they would be best received. Robb was talented at that, he knew he wasn't Lord of Winterfell yet but one day he would be and wanted to let Lord Baelish understand that. He did not want to be pushed to the side.

Arya was the last for her to focus on, seeing that Rickon was eating with Septa Mordane. Arya simply raised an eyebrow and flickered her eyes toward Baelish. Arya had been watching her sister all evening fawn over their guest. Arya couldn't see the attraction but this was the first time she saw her sister find anything beyond the Godswood and Lady interesting. While she may not like Baelish in such a manner, she couldn't help be happy that there was a spark of the old Sansa coming out to play. 

“I hear that you hosted our young prince for a few months.” Baelish asked, directing his comment toward Ned, as a servant poured the Lord of Winterfell a new glass of wine. However, Baelish's eyes flashed over to Sansa as though he was calculating her reaction. Sansa didn't look at him but instead focused on her plate in front of her. She placed her fork in the tender beef, brought it to her mouth and chewed, knowing all the while that Baelish was watching her. 

“Yes, Prince Joffery was fostered here about two years ago.” Ned replied. His tone was stiff and displeased. He never spoke the words aloud to anyone other than Catelyn but he was not found of his old friend's son. Joffery may be a Baratheon but Ned didn't trust his mother's family. It was the main reason why he broke the engagement between Joffery and Sansa. He believed the Lannisters were the cause of Bran's death. He did not want his daughter to be apart of that family. 

“He always spoke so fondly of Winterfell.” Sansa looked up and met Baelish's eyes. It was as though he was trying to tell her something. At that, her breathing increased and her mind went into a frenzy. What was Joffery saying in the Capitol? What was he telling people? Sansa was counting on Cersei to have control over her son but had the Queen lost that control? She chanced one last look at Baelish and she could tell that for a moment, he regretted bring up Joffery. 

He knew. 

“The throne was most eager to make a match for Joffery. When I was at Highgarden I was able to broker a match between the prince and one Margaery Tryrell.” Baelish stated and glanced back at Sansa. She knew what he was trying to tell her. Joffery had a new bride and the chances of King Robert demanding Ned to marry Sansa to his son was slim to none. Thank you. She mouthed to Baelish and he just smirked in satisfaction, as though it pleased him that he made her happy. 

“And when can we expect this royal wedding?” Ned asked. The lines in his forehead creased. Ned knew that if Joffery was getting married, then he would be expected to attend the wedding. All the high lords are required to attend such events. His eyes looked toward his eldest daughter, who he noticed was focused on her meal. Her wondered how an event would effect her, when she so dearly wanted to be the one who the royal wedding was for. 

“Well the king requested it be as soon as possible but the Tryrells and the Queen wanted to wait until summer has fully arrived.” Baelish answered. Summer was rapidly approaching and if the weather continued to change as quickly as it had been, Joffery would be married before the year was out. With that Baelish lifted his goblet and drank lightly from the wine. Sansa noticed that he drank lighter than most men. Robb, Theon and sometimes even her father would gulp down the liquid, but Baelish drank slowly and gently. It was as though he never wanted the wine to control him. She watched as he set the goblet down and his tongue liked the wine from his lips. His eyes locked with hers again. 

“Is that why King Robert made you Lord of Harrenhal?” Robb asked with curiously. Sansa looked toward Arya because she had let out that information. The younger girl shrugged and indicated that she had no idea. There are rumors that Harrenhal is haunted but Sansa didn't believe in ghost stories anymore.

“Yes, King Robert has been most kind in that regard.” Baelish stated with a smirk. “Of course its nothing more than a ruin for the time being but with the right amount of gold and men...well..I'm sure you can imagine.” Sansa believed him. She believed that he would turn Harrenhal into something great and something beautiful; something that would rival Winterfell. She wondered if she would ever get to see it, or would she be stuck in the North forever. Perhaps she would be shipped off to the Eyrie. Neither option seemed appealing to her.

“Yes. King Robert is very generous. Generous enough to bankrupt the Seven Kingdoms.” Ned snapped, his speech slightly slurred. To him, he never understood how the Seven Kingdoms fell into such debt. He knew that King Robert could be a fool but surely Jon Arryn was not. The man who fostered him during his youth never would have allowed the kingdoms to fall into such a state. He knew that it was possible that the debt was not acquired until after Jon Arryn's death but with this much debt, it seemed unlikely. 

“I have been Master of Coin for many years and have always advised spending the crown's money wisely and I know the Hand always agreed. However, no amount of advising can change a king's mind once the course has been set. If the King followed my advise, the Kingdoms would be prospering.” Baelish stated, yet Sansa didn't completely believe him. The way he spoke and the smirk he wore made Sansa think that Lord Baelish enjoyed the fact that the Seven Kingdoms were scrambling. 

The question was why? Why would he enjoy such a thing? He was sitting in a nice position, if she thought on it. He was Lord of Harrenhal and if everything went as planned, one day Harrenhal would reclaim its glory. Of course that depended if Lord Baelish had his way, which Sansa believed that he always got what he wanted. He was also Protector of the Vale, even if it was temporary. When her cousin Robin came of age and ruled over the Vale, he would turn to Baelish for counsel. If Robin died, as her mother suspected, then this Lord Hardyng would take the seat as Lord of the Vale. She wasn't certain but she would be willing to bet Lord Baelish planned for such an outcome as well as the outcome of Robin taking control. 

Either way, he had the Vale and Harrenhal. He spoke that he was friendly with the Tryells of Highgarden, enough to broker a match with Joffery, leading Sansa to believe that he had the Lannisters and Baratheons as allis as well. Baelish was putting himself in a position of immense power. 

“I do not believe that Jon Arryn would have allowed the crown to go bankrupt!” Ned stated, nearly pounding his first on the table. Sansa saw that her mother moved her father's goblet farther away from him. Her father wasn't one to overly drink but she knew he was stressed. She let her eyes flicker toward Baelish and she could see that he was finding direct amusement in her father's intoxication. 

“Jon Arryn was one of the best Hand's the Seven Kingdoms has ever seen, but he has been gone for the last six years. Many things can change in six years. It has been a long and cold winter.” Baelish stated in a smug tone as though there was so much more to the story. 

“I doubt the king was ever cold....at least his bed wasn't.” Ned muttered and Catelyn gave him and slight jab. Robb's shoulder's slumped and he shook his head. This type of behavior was uncommon for her father. 

“Alright Ned, I think its time you went to bed.” Catelyn stated as she stood from the table. “Pardon us Petyr but I think it would be wise if I took my husband to bed.” She grabbed her husband by the arm and helped him stand. She put his arm around her shoulder and let her husband lean on her. While Catelyn was small, she was far stronger than she looked and her husband's weight was nothing to her. Ned muttered something and buried his face in his red hair. 

“I'm sure that is something you've done hundreds of times already, my dear Cat.” Baelish stated with a leer. Catelyn let the remark go even though a retort was on the tip of her tongue. Robb hissed in displeasure, not liking his mother being disrespected in such a way. Sansa knew that if it would have been any other situation and if they didn't need Baelish at that exact moment, Robb would have called him out on such a remark. All the while Arya snorted in her goblet and Sansa held back a giggle.

The three Stark children watched their parents leave the dimly lit dining area. All the while Baelish watched Sansa. She glanced toward him and suddenly had to look down at her plate in embarrassment. She could feel the heat rise in her cheeks and she assumed that her face was as red as her hair. Baelish's eyes grew darker as he gazed at her as though she was stripped naked. She chanced a glance at him and his gaze never wavered. Her eyes shifted to Robb whose fingers were pinching the bridge of his nose while Arya was whispering to him. The entirety of the evening meal Baelish had been stealing sly glances at Sansa with her doing the same in return. Now, he was unabashedly staring at her as though he wanted to devour her. All she could think of at that moment was how much she wanted that. Not being able to take anymore of his penetrating gaze, Sansa stood and declared that she was headed to bed. 

Without even saying goodnight or being a proper hostess, Sansa hurried out of the dining hall, passed a few guards and toward the stairwell. She raced as fast as her feet would take her and once she reached the stone landing she slowed to a gentle pace. She passed through the landing and headed down a darkened corridor with only the light from the torches leading the way. She was almost to the corridor that held her chambers when she heard someone call her name. 

“Lady Sansa.” Sansa turned and saw Baelish walking towards her. He carried himself in a dignified manner but she could see that he was breathing heavily. He had chased after her. His eyes were piercing her's the exact same way they had been before she made her hasty exist. His leer was firmly in place and it made Sansa squirm. She knew that she should be disinterested in this man but there was just something in his manner that made her want him. This attraction was not something she was used to and she never felt this way with Joffery. “I was hoping to catch you before you reached your chambers.” 

“Is there something I can help you with Lord Baelish?” Sansa asked him. She stood still and laced her fingers together. She hoped that if she stood stiffly enough, perhaps Baelish wouldn't be able to sense the emotions she was feeling. She had become a master at forcing her feelings into submission, attraction shouldn't be any different. 

“Oh there are several things you could help me with.” Baelish asked, that leer growing even wider. Any hope of forcing her feelings into submission were completely forgotten and she could feel her lower parts of her growing warm. The closer Baelish got, the more Sansa squirmed. He could see right threw her and she knew her discomfort made him very pleased. “However, those things are not what I what I wanted to talk to you about. At least not yet.” 

“I don't-”

“Have you ever experienced what a night of heavy drinking feels like?” Baelish asked and Sansa shook her head in the negative. While her parents allowed them to have wine, they always monitored how much they drank. A few times Robb, Jon and Theon had slipped into the kitchens and had gotten overly smashed. When they did, Ned always had them up early for a long day of riding and labor. “Good. Good. Men who drink to much always spill their secrets. It's best to be on the receiving end of those secrets than the one telling them.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Sansa asked in confusion. One second he was making innuendos and the next he was giving her advice. It was almost fatherly and yet he was nothing like her father. He reached out and took her hand into his. Sansa felt her stomach turn. Baelish took his thumb and began to run it over her knuckles at a slow pace. His eyes locked onto hers and devilish smirk appeared on his face. 

“Think of it as a lesson.” He moved his hand up her forearm. “Your father is going to have a rough morning. We are riding out to White Harbor and will not be back for a few days. It's a shame to leave so soon after I arrived. It would please me very much if you came to the courtyard before dawn.” His hand reached her shoulder and he began tracing small circles over the fabric. Wanting to feel his skin on her's again, Sansa reached up and pulled his hand from her shoulder and linked her fingers through his. She kept her hand flat, only allowing their fingers to touch.

“And why would it please you Lord Baelish?” Sansa asked with a soft voice. Even though the only light were a few torches that lingered on the wall, Sansa could see his eyes begin to darken. She knew that this was a dangerous game that she was playing. Yet, she couldn't help herself. She knew that if she continued to act in such a manner, she was going to get burned. She had been cold for so long, perhaps a bit of heat is what she needed. 

“Call me Petyr.” His voice was huskier than before and his breathing hallow. He stepped closer to her and for a moment, Sansa thought that he was going to kiss her but he didn't. Instead he reached with his free hand and traced her collar bone where the top of her dress rested. Slowly his hand moved toward the pulse in her neck. Baelish traced were the he could feel her pulse began to speed up. Then suddenly she went rigid and felt all of her muscles clench together. 

Memories began to race into her mind. The thought of hands gripping her neck and the need to breathe becoming so urgent. The pain increased as her air way began to tighten. Sansa could almost feel the pull of her hair and sound of ripping fabric ringing in the air. The smell of wood and dirt flooded her sense of smell. Her breathing began to speed and she felt panic begin to rise. Her eyes darted around looking for an escape. She felt the fingers move rapidly from her pulse but she felt a tight squeeze on her hand.

“Sansa, look at me. Look at me.” Sansa focused on the squeeze on her hand and looked directly into Baelish's eyes. She felt herself begin to calm and he slowly placed his free hand on the side of her arm. He gently began to massage it in a comforting manner. Sansa felt her heart begin to slow and her breathing return to normal. She never removed her eyes from his as though he was the only person who could make this pain disappear. “You are safe with me. I promise, I won't hurt you.” 

They stood there for a few moments as Sansa tried to relax herself. Baelish never let go of her hand and never stopped rubbing her shoulder. He wouldn't either, not until he knew she was going to be alright. He wouldn't leave her alone in such a state. Slowly, her posture loosened and she saw Baelish give her a smile. It wasn't that leery smirk he wore when he was gazing at her before. This was something else and it made her feel safe. 

“How are you feeling?” He asked in a soothing manner. He stopped rubbing her shoulder and his hand drifted down slightly but he stayed in contact with her. She smiled and nodded. Baelish smiled in relief but his smile held a sadness to it. “That mask you wear, I've seen it a hundred times.” She didn't know what he meant but she wanted nothing more than to forget. She didn't want to dwell on the memories that surfaced and began to push them down. She wanted to focus on Baelish.

“Must be because I look like my mother.” Sansa whispered and Baelish let out a small chuckle. It was a quiet sort of laugh. If she had not been standing right there, she would have missed it. He wasn't a type of man who genuinely laughed often but when he did there was something more ominous behind it. Sansa felt a sort of pride to be able to bring that out in him. 

“That is not what I meant.” Baelish leaned forward but kept his hands in their place, never moving them. He was so close that Sansa could feel his breath on her. His breath smelt of mint leaves and it was intoxicating. “You are far more beautiful than she ever was.” With those whispered words, Baelish pressed his lips to Sansa's cheek and letting them rest there for a few seconds before he pulled away slightly. “Come to the courtyard at dawn. At the very least so I know you are alight.” He whispered in her ear, letting his warm breath grace her earlobe. 

He stepped back from her and let the hand that rested on her arm fall. He moved completely away before letting their linked hands break apart. When they finally were disconnected, Sansa felt a sort of loss. After losing that contact, she realized how comforting his touch was. Once he realized what set her off, he remedied it and pulled her back into a place of comfort. She knew that after this moment, she would desire his touches, especially the small ones. 

“Goodnight Sweetling.” 

Baelish gave her one last smirk and headed back down the darkened corridor. Sansa stood there watching him walk away. He never looked back. When he turned a corner and she could no longer see him, she rushed toward her chamber door and swung it open. She entered, closing it behind her and let herself fall against the wood. Sansa looked toward the window on the right side of the room. It was dark outside and the sun was nowhere to be seen; but Sansa knew that dawn came early.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait but here is the next chapter. Now I'm not the biggest fan of Ned and I actually think he is to freaking honorable and lacks common sense which got himself killed in the book/show. We never really see him drinking but I feel like Petyr would have had a hand in the constant refilling of his wine glass.
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	6. Chapter 6

Sleep never came that night. Sansa laid in bed for hours, thinking about Baelish’s hand in hers and how it felt when his lips connected with her cheek. She always avoided physical contact for the most part. While she could stand a few touches from family, and even that was something that was relatively new, strangers were completely out of the question. At first, she couldn’t even receive a simple hug from her own father. Maester Luwin was always careful never to actually touch her with his bare hands. They all thought she was traumatized from a wildling attack, a lie she encouraged. Yet, she always suspected that Maester Luwin knew what actually happened in those woods but he never said a word about it. For that she was grateful.

Yet, here was a man she hardly knew and she was already craving his touches. She knew that she should not go to that courtyard at dawn to see Baelish but she couldn’t help herself. Sansa wanted to see him again. It would be days before she would be able to look upon his sharp features. That seemed unbearable to her. It wasn’t as though she was a love sick child. She knew what that felt like because she experienced that strong infatuation with Joffery. This time around she just wanted to feel his hand in hers again. She couldn’t make sense of it but she knew that while it was shocking and exciting, his skin on her's, it was also comforting.

When she glanced out her chamber window, Sansa knew that if she indeed was going to go to the courtyard to meet him, she needed to pull herself out of bed. While she was comfortable, she hadn’t slept. Sansa slipped out of the covers and felt the cold air hit her. She shivered, letting the goosebumps grace her porcelain skin. When her feet hit the wooden floor, it was as though it was made of ice. Even the hot springs under the castle could warm everything. She rushed over to her trunk and pulled a simple winter dress. It was dark but had lovely red detail. It was something she made a few years prior when she couldn’t bear to let the servants help her dress. It was something she could just slip on without any type of assistance. She pulled the dress on over her sleeping chaise. No one was going to know and she planned on crawling back into her bed once she departed from the courtyard. She grabbed one of her dark cloaks. She had a few to last her through the winter season and most of them had either the Stark direwolf sigil or some other type of embroidery. This cloak however, was plain black and wouldn’t stand out which is what she wanted. After running a brush through her hair, lifting her hood to cover her head, Sansa grabbed the candle by her bed and heading out her chamber door.

The corridor was dark and the only light was the flicker of the torches on the wall. The candle Sansa held in her hand was dim but it gave her enough light to see where she was headed. The castle was quite, with only a few servants going about their business for their morning routine. When she reached the landing of the stairwell, she could hear Ser Rodrik speaking to a stable boy down below about her father’s, Robb and Lord Baelish’s departure. Theon was supposed to be with them but he never returned to the castle the night before. Once she heard their voices fading into the distance, Sansa went slowly down the stairs. When she noticed no one was in sight, she sprinted across the entrance hall toward the giant oak doors that lead out into the courtyard.

Sansa sat the candle down seeing that it was light enough out for her to see her surroundings. She passed the two towers and went closer to where the gates were located. She paused for a moment when she saw Baelish up ahead. His back was to her and she could tell that his hands were engaged in some activity. Suddenly his arms lifted and a raven flew away from him with a note tied to its foot. Sansa wondered where that raven was going and who would be on the receiving end of it. She was never as nosey as Arya but she couldn't help but be curious.

“Lord Baelish?” Sansa stated causing the older gentleman to turn. He took a few leisurely steps in her direction. Sansa saw a small smirk appear on his face. He was dressed in his dark colors again but she could tell that his clothes were finely made. It was as though Baelish enjoyed proving to others how wealthy he was but not in an ostentatious way. Sansa was used to the finer clothes, while her parents were far more frugal with their gold than others, she still knew what fine fabric felt like. However, she could not conceive the wealth that Baelish portrayed.

“Petyr.” He corrected. Baelish was standing directly in front of her but he didn't touch her. While she was disappointed Sansa understood why. The court yard only had a few people around, servants preparing of the departure of the Lord of Winterfell along with his guest. However, it only took one servant to say the wrong thing to the right person and Sansa would find herself in the midst of serious trouble. 

“Petyr.” Sansa amended and Baelish's smirk grew wider. It was as though the sound of his name coming from her lips pleased him. Yet, he still kept a distance and Sansa found herself wishing that the servants or anyone else in the courtyard would simply vanish. “Where is the raven headed?” Baelish turned his head slightly and smirked.  
“King's Landing. The King will need word that I have arrived safely.” His eyes then traced over her and Sansa had the urge to pull her cloak tighter around her. It wasn't that she hated the attention he gave her, she just wasn't accustomed to it. When his eyes traced over her, she felt a thrill run through her. It sent a tingle down her spine. 

“Among other things.” 

“What other things?” Sansa asked and Baelish just gave her one of his famous smirks. She could tell that whatever was running through his mind was less than pure, and it excited her. His eyes pulled from her body and glimpsed around. When he was sure no one was watching them, he stepped forward and placed his hands on the side of her head. His fingers graced her hood that was still atop her head. Slowly he lowered the hood, letting her red hair that hidden beneath it flow. Baelish leaned forward and kissed her cheek gently. 

“Nothing you need to worry about. At least not yet, Sweetling.” He whispered in her ear. Then suddenly he was stepping back from her and Sansa felt that loss. She looked over and saw that a servant girl had entered the yard. Baelish moved away toward his horse, making it look as though they were only having a simple conversation and that nothing untoward was happening.

She wanted to question him. She wanted to know what she didn't need to worry about. If it was anyone else, she would have pestered but she knew it was fruitless. He wouldn't tell her anything and perhaps it was that he couldn't. If that raven was for the King then it was no business of her's, even though she wanted to make it her business. 

“Last night, when you said about the mask I wear, what did you mean?” Sansa asked in an unsure tone. While she laid awake at night reliving Baelish’s touches, her mind always wondered about his comment. He said he has seen it a hundred times, by who? If he didn’t mean her mother, who could he possibly mean? She did feel a rush of pride and triumph when he claimed that she was far more beautiful than her mother ever was. Ever since she was little, she had always heard what a beauty Catelyn Tully had been in her youth. She still was of course, only being in her late thirties.

Sansa suddenly realized that the age difference between her and Lord Baelish wasn’t as far away as she originally thought. He was of course old enough to be her father, but she knew by looking at him that was younger than her actual father. She knew that her mother was only a few years older than Baelish, claiming that he was always like a younger brother to her. If her math was correct, he could be no older than thirty-six years old.

“I meant exactly what I said. I’ve seen women and sometimes men in your position before. I’ve seen the way they hold themselves, the way they distance themselves from any contact, the way they speak with a harsh coldness in their tone and I’ve most certainly seen the way you reacted to my touch last night.” The way he spoke and the look he gave her wasn’t harsh or scolding. If anything it was as though he felt sorry for her. Sansa didn’t want anyone’s pity, especially not his. Pity was the last thing she wanted from him. 

“And where have you seen these women?” Her voice was cold. She didn’t like being reminded of the reason she was the way she was. Yet, here was this man who brought these emotions out of her. She kept everything so buried deep down inside of her that it made her as cold as the winter that was coming to an end. But with one simple look from him, she felt emotions that she denied herself for so long flow through her. If she was honest with herself, not all the emotions were negative.

“On several of my girls.”

“Girls? I don’t-“

“Whores, Sweetling. One of my several whores.” Sansa let out a surprised gasp. She didn't expect that to be his response. Her mind started to run wild. What did he mean by his whores? As in more than one? Was he like Theon and spent time in brothels instead of with the ones who loved him? She watched him the night before and he didn't overly drink such as Theon would have. He cautioned her against it, saying that she would take leave of her sense and would spill secrets that she would rather not have people know. 

“You mean you spend gold on-”

“I mean that I own several brothels in the capitol.” He stated in a voice that was matter of fact. It was as though it was another day and that it was very common for a man to own such an establishment, let alone more than one. “And before you ask, Sweetling, I don't mix business with pleasure.” He spoke with formality and Sansa believed him. She felt relieved and Sansa realized that she did not like the idea of another women touching him.

“Why? Why would you own such an establishment?” As a lady, Sansa was always taught to turn a blind eye when it came to the brothels or any other such establishment. Even now her parents rarely talked about what went on down at the village. It wasn't until Theon started visiting them so frequently that her parents started really talking about what went on beyond closed doors. She remembered the uncomfortable conversation she and Arya had with their mother. Sansa already knew and Arya had witness Theon's discussions first hand but it was still rather embarrassing. 

“Whores bring in gold. If there is one thing that I am good at, it is bringing in gold.” Baelish smirked and stepped a bit closer. He still was far away enough for everything to appear innocent. Their voices were low enough for others not to overhear unless others were right next to them. “And owning brothels keeps me well informed.”   
“How so?” It always seemed that Baelish knew what others didn't. Yet, she didn't understand how keeping whorehouses would let him know things such as what happened to her in the Godswood. Her sister found it strange that she spent a good amount of her time in those woods, seeing as it was the scene of her nightmares. Sansa felt that she needed to overcome her trauma, so she spent as much time as she could there. 

“Another time perhaps? There is not enough time for me to show you.” Baelish stated as his eyes lingered over her person. Sansa once again felt that familiar tingle. She wanted to throw back a witty retort and she wanted his innuendos not to have this effect on her. Yet, it excited her because she knew it would be different. He wouldn't hurt her. He would choke her. He wasn't a good man, that much was very clear but he wasn't a violent one either. “Does it bother you? That I own brothels?” 

Sansa thought on it for a moment, did it bother her? It would bother her if he would spend his time and gold on the whores. It would bother her if he allowed them to touch him. But she believed him when he said he didn't mix business with pleasure. The question was, did it bother her that he owed such establishments? Her father never would even think of making such an investment and neither would Robb. Theon most likely wouldn't mind but would end up using the merchandise more so than making a profit. Yet, those men were men she could never want. She didn't want a man like her father who was nobel and brave. Most men who claim to be so are liars. Yet, this man stood in front of her telling her exactly who he was. 

“No, it doesn't.” With that Baelish smirked and Sansa knew that it pleased him. She felt a rush of pride well up inside her at the thought him being happy with her. She wanted to please him and she was afraid that she would do just about anything to make him happy. “So that is how you knew about me? Because one of your girls? Is it that obvious?” He was quiet for a moment and she could tell that he was lost in thought. She wanted to know. 

“You hide it very well. No one would know what happened to you by simply looking at you. I'm just more accustomed to girls who have experienced such brutality. It was in the small things you did that made me realize.” Baelish stated in such a matter-of-fact tone that Sansa wondered if he found damaged girls to be normal in his line of work. He said he was accustomed to it but those were whores. Surely they expected it and knew what was going to happen. She was a lady and had no forewarning. “That and our young prince is not only sadistic but he has a rather loose tongue.” 

“What?” Sansa snapped. Her heart rate began to speed up and her breathing increased. How much of a fool had she been? Of course Joffery would rave about what he had done. He was the prince and he could do what he pleased. He could demand someone's life and no one would bat an eye. “What has he been saying?” 

“I won't go into particulars but you have a reputation in the capitol. I can tell now that most of what the good prince has been saying is all lies.” Baelish stated but it didn't make her feel better. She had thought she was able to keep it a secret. She was hoping that Joffery would have better sense but she forgot that Kings Landing was not Winterfell and that Joffery was a prince. He could do what he pleased. It made her angry and she wanted nothing more than to throw something breakable at his sadistic face.

“Is that why you like me Lord Baelish? Because I have a reputation?” Sansa was angry, but mainly at herself. She had been a fool and hated herself for it. She should have known better. She was falling back into the naive child she had been. She was hoping that Baelish liked her because of who she was but instead it was because of what he has heard of her.

“Sweetling, I don't just like you, I want you.” Baelish walked closer to her again and Sansa felt a chill rush through her. “Whether you are a pure innocent young lady or a damaged and manipulative women, I will enjoy corrupting you.” Sansa flushed. She didn't know how to respond because she was to busy clenching her thighs together.   
“And what if I don't want to be corrupted?” She stated. She wanted to defy him just to see how far she could push him. Sansa knew that eventually he was snap and she was curious at what the reaction would be. Just the mere thought excited her.

“Oh Sweetling, you will be begging for it.” Baelish stated with a chuckle. That leer was on his lips and Sansa thought back to his tongue she saw licking the wine off his lips the night before. She wanted to know what those lips felt like. Sansa snapped herself out of the trance and needed to focus on something else. Something that would make her angry. 

“So this reputation I have, I'm assuming its not flattering?” That caused Baelish to laugh again. He turned away from her and went over to his horse. He started to prepare for the ride. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see some of her father's men and gold cloaks entering the courtyard. Her father would soon be here in order to ride off and she knew that she should be heading back to her chambers. Sansa didn't want to, she wanted to keep talking to Baelish. He would be gone for days and she would be left there obsession over everything he said.

“People are more open in the Capitol. Joffery is spinning a tale that you seduced him and when I say Joffery I mean Queen Cersei. She had to create a story when her son spoke a bit to freely. Of course King Robert is far to angry with your father that he could care less if the prince ruined his best friend's daughter.” Baelish stated and Sansa thought, not for the first time, that the King was a fool. It would have been a perfect opportunity to force a marriage between her and Joffery. Yet, she knew the King was sitting on the Iron Throne doing nothing more than whoring and drinking himself into an early grave. “I'm actually surprised the news of you and Prince Joffery's affair hasn't reached Winterfell. Then again news does not travel as fast in the winter season.” 

“It wasn't an affair. I wanted nothing to do with it.” Sansa snapped at him. Ned entered the courtyard looking rough. She turned back to Baelish who was keeping a safe distance from her. “This can't reach Winterfell. My parents can never know what he is saying in King's Landing. Please.” Baelish looked thoughtful for a moment. 

“There are a few people I could buy off in order to keep your secret. Of course it won't be cheap.” Sansa nodded. She wasn't exactly sure what she would be able to offer in return but she was sure that he would request something specific. “But I won't ask anything from you. At least not this time.” 

“Thank you-”

“Sansa!” She turned to see her father walking toward her. She could see that his eyes had bags underneath them and he was paler than she had ever seen him before. Obviously Ned was not going to have an enjoyable ride. Robb trailed behind him with a smirk plastered on his face. It was obvious that he was enjoying his father's predicament. Possibly because it would be some sort of payback for all those time Ned forced him to do labor after a night of drinking. “What are you doing up this early?”

Ned's eyes traveled between his daughter and Baelish. He didn't trust the man and it didn't help that Sansa looked like a younger version of his wife. He knew that once upon a time Baelish claimed to love Catelyn and he hasn't shown any indication that he still was. However, he has heard less than flattering things of the Master of Coin and didn't want him alone with Sansa. 

“I wanted to see you and Robb off. You weren't here so I was entertaining Lord Baelish with tales of White Harbor.” Sansa lied threw her teeth with the perfect daughter of Winterfell mask in place. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Baelish smirking. He saw right through her and she began to wonder if he was the only one who would. Sansa stepped forward, stood on her tip-toes and kissed her father's cheek. She repeated the same thing with Robb. “Please be safe and return soon.” 

“We will and don't cause any trouble while we are gone.” Ned stated believing his daughter would never cause any type of chaos. In his mind, she was a sweet innocent princess that never would do something amoral. “Lord Baelish, are you ready?”

“It appears far more than you are.” With that Ned gave a grunt in displeasure. He placed a soft hand on Sansa's back and led her away from Baelish. She turned back and looked at him. He flashed her one of his cheeky smiles and she felt herself flush again. 

Sansa stood back as Ned and Robb prepared for their journey. They talked about the journey to White Harbor and how long it would take to get there. Sansa was looking at six days alone with her mother, Arya, Rickon and possibly Theon if he ever graced them with his presence. A few moments later she watched her father, brother and Baelish ride off with several Winterfell guards and gold cloaks. She ran to the gates and watched them ride off. She leaned against the stone and she had no idea how long she had stood there.

She felt he sun begin to warm on her face. She looked to the sky and she knew that it was going to be a clear day. While summer may be approaching, it was always cold in the North. Eventually she couldn't see the flags anymore. She was about to turn back toward the castle when a horse rode past her. Sansa turned quickly and saw Theon jump down off the horse. He took the reins and practically threw them at a servant girl. Sansa could feel the irritation and anger rise up in her. She pushed off the stone wall and all but stomped her way over to him.

“Nice of you to return.” The venom in her voice took Theon off guard. However that cocky attitude that he always seemed to have plastered on his face. “It's a shame you never came back last night. You just missed father and Robb ride off with Lord Baelish. I know they would have preferred for you to have been with them.” 

“Where are they going?” Theon asked and Sansa could still smell the wine on him. She could see the tunic was untucked from his trousers. He had a bruise on his neck that he wasn't attempting to hide and his cloak had wrinkles on it that showed that his cloak was not just being used for keeping warm. 

“To White Harbor, you know the biggest city in the North.” Nothing. “They will get the most gold there.” Theon just blinked at her. “For the taxes.” Sansa huffed when he didn't even respond. “You have no idea what I am talking about do you?” 

“I don't care. Not like I'm going to be Lord of Winterfell one day.” Theon shrugged. At first, Sansa had felt sorry for him when the news of the Greyjoys reached them. She understood when he hit the depression stage because she felt exactly the same way. It wasn't until he started treating her family with contempt and spent more time at the whorehouse drinking himself to death that Sansa started to feel ball of hate bubble up inside of her. Sansa believed that life would be better at Winterfell without Theon and she wished there was a way to get rid of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I actually did a bit of research for this chapter. It never really said how old Baelish was in the first book. I found on wiki (whether its true or not , Idk) that he was only 30 years old during GoT. Which would make sense so in my story he is 36. It's actually not that much of an age difference....not that I mind.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was not planing on posting this chapter until later in the week seeing that I posted twice this weekend but I figured after last night's finale, we all needed a treat.

The crypts were always dark and dreary. The deceased members of the Stark family were buried there and some people believed that it was haunted. It was always an eery place but a ghost has never been spotted among those tombs. The only indication that something strange occurred in those dark halls was when Rickon would sometimes dream of them. The morning that Bran had died, Rickon had a dream that he saw Bran down in the crypts. Sansa had brushed the dream aside as a small child having a reaction to a traumatic event. However, that all changed when their mother's grief stricken cry rang through the halls of Winterfell. 

Sansa stood in front of Bran's stone carved face and traced the lines of his face. She could hardly remember what he looked like but she knew this stone carving was hardly realistic. As she traced his face, she closed her eyes hoping to conjure an image in her mind of Bran's smiling face. She tried to see him and to remember what his smile was like but all she could focus on was the constant dripping noise of water hitting the crypt's floor. The musty smell of the cold air filled her nostrils and it made her chest feel frozen. The harder she focused, the farther Bran got away. 

She pulled her hand away in irritation and huffed. Nothing was coming and it made the realization that she never was going to hear Bran speak again all to real. Sansa had so many regrets when it came to Bran's death. She was heartbroken when he died and all she wanted was to get as far away from Winterfell in order to pretend that it wasn't real. Realizing now how much of a mistake that would have been, Sansa was grateful she was forced to stay in the North. She shuddered to think what her life would have become if her father took the King on his offer to become the Hand. She was certain that she would be married to Joffery and nothing could be more terrifying than that. 

Sansa wondered if Bran would have been disappointed in her. She knew that if the news of her ruin would ever reach her parents that they would just as be heartbroken. Ned would rage and declare war on the throne. She knew that the banner-men would follow him but he wouldn't have the support of the six remaining kingdoms. Catelyn would weep for her the daughter she used to be. Robb wouldn't say anything but simply hold her. He would just hold her and say how sorry he was before following their father into battle. Rickon wouldn't do anything because he was just a child of nine and too young to really understand. 

Yet, how would Bran react? Sansa couldn't be sure. He would be thirteen now and nearly a man. He was just a child when he died and she had no idea what type of man he would have grown into. She didn't know how he would react to his sister's ruin. She walked away from Bran's statue and went to face another. When she was young and just a child, Sansa would sneak down here and watch her father weep over a statue of a women. She had no idea who she was until she gained enough courage to ask her mother. It was her Aunt Lyanna and Sansa realized years later that her father also prayed for her in the Godswood. She would hear him whisper her name as he sat under the Weirwood. 

Unlike Ned, Sansa never prayed anymore. She believed that the Godswood was nothing more than empty woods. Gods didn't exits. They were nothing more than fantasies that people told themselves in order to sleep at night. Yet, when Baelish told her of the lies that Joffrey and Cersei where saying in King's Landing, for the first time in years she prayed. She prayed that the news would never reach her parents. She prayed because she felt as though she had no control and nothing else to lose. She could only hope that Baelish was good on his word and would never allow the news to spread any farther north. 

“There you are.” A cheeky voice sounded from down the crypt. Sansa turned and saw Baelish strolling towards her with a lazy smirk upon his lips. He looked much like he did seven days ago when he first arrived. He looked worn from travel but still impeccable. His cloak was once again dark, a smart choice for a place that frequently got so muddy, but it still held golden embroidery that put Sansa's talent to shame. A mockingbird pin was nestled firmly on his chest, holding the cloak together. 

“You're back.” Sansa replied with a genuine smile. She had been so worried about her parents learning of her reputation that she didn't realize how much she missed him. She knew him for less than a month but he has made such an impact on her that she already knew it was going to be strange when he was no longer here and back in King's Landing. 

“Yes. We arrived about an hour ago and I was very disappointed you were not there to greet me. Your sister had to tell me where you were.” He inched closer to her and Sansa could feel her heartbeat speed up. She caught her breath when his fingers touched the small necklace that she wore. The necklace had a small silver direwolf pendant and when Baelish fingered it, she could feel the back of his fingers lightly graze across her collar bone. “Tell me something, how much do you trust your sister?” 

“I trust her with my life. I tell her everything.” It was something in his eyes but Sansa could tell that there was no one in this life that Baelish trusted. Must be lonely. She thought. While she believed that the world was full of horrible people and everyone had the capability of betrayal she trusted her sister and that was enough for her. He gave her a small smile and pulled away from her. He walked around her to stare at the statue in front of them.

“Your Aunt Lyanna.” He stated as the two of them gazed at the statue.

“My father never talks about her.” She paused, reflecting on the statue and the Lord of Winterfell. “Sometimes I find him down here lighting the candles. They say she was beautiful.” She couldn't remember Bran's face and she wondered if her father remembered his sister's. Sansa was beginning to realize that it was a tradition that Starks didn't talk about siblings who have passed on. Outside of Arya, she never heard anyone mention Bran's name. Her father never talked about Lyanna and only her mother told her stories of her Uncle Brandon. Ned rarely mentioned him either. 

“I saw her once.” Sansa looked at him in surprise. She knew that Baelish was connected to her family but she thought it was only on her mother's side. “I was a boy living with your mother's family and Lord Went of the great tourney at Harrenhal. Everyone was there; the Mad King, your father, Robert Baratheon and Lyanna. She was already promised to Robert.” He stopped for a moment and wore a small smile. Sana realized that it was the first true smile he wore. There was nothing devious about this smile. “You can imagine what it was like for me? A boy from nowhere, with nothing to his name? Watching these legendary men tilting at the lists? The last two riders were Barristan Selmy and Rhaegar Targaryen. When Rhaegar won everyone cheered for their prince. Everyone was laughing when he took off his helmet and saw his silver hair. How handsome he was until he rode right past his wife, Elia Martell and all the smiles died. I've never seen so many people so quiet. He rode past his wife and he lay a crown of winter roses in Lyanna's lap, blue as frost.” He stopped for a moment and Sansa could see into him. This was the real first glimpse into where Baelish came from. It startled her how young he appeared as the went down memory lane. “How many thousands had to die because Rhaegar chose your aunt?” 

“Yes. He chose her. And then he kidnapped her and raped her.” In that moment Sansa could feel herself connected to her aunt more than any living relative she had, even Arya. They both where proclaimed to be beautiful. Both were claimed by a prince and both were brutalized by them. The only difference is that Sansa survived. She wondered if Lyanna had survived, would she feel this void of darkness inside her too? Sansa looked over to Baelish and he wore the most peculiar expression. It was as though he knew something she didn't. “What?” 

“Come. Let's speak somewhere where the dead can't hear us.” Baelish places his hand on her arm and steered her away from Lyanna's crypt. He put her arm in his and they walked away from the dead. At first she had craved to be down here and for a statue to be made in her honor but as time moved forward, Sansa realized that death wasn't the answer. She still was unsure what it was but she knew it wasn't her death she craved. 

“Are you going to tell me what you are thinking?” She asked. Over the last few years, Sansa had gotten talented at predicting people's thoughts. Most people think they are unpredictable when the truth was the exact opposite. Yet, Baelish was a complete mystery to her. She had no idea what he was thinking or what he planned to do. She only knew that he had some interest in her and she did not know how far that extended. He desired her, that much he admitted but she wondered if it went beyond that. 

“If I told you, then it wouldn't be a secret.” He stated. His smirk was firmly back in place and she knew that whatever he was thinking, he wasn't going to tell her. She could beg and plead for him to spill what he knew but that would give him a satisfaction that she wasn't willing to give yet. 

“And why do I feel as though you are full of secrets?” Sansa toyed with a small smile. If he wanted to play, she was more than willing to play on his level. She paused causing him to stop. She pulled her arm out of his and faced him. She was close and searched his eyes. Just like the night he stopped her outside her chambers, it was dark. It was as though what they wanted would always be hidden in the shadows. Everything she wanted and everything she was, was in the shadows. Sansa realized that this man didn't mind and would be willing to step into the shadows with her, if he wasn't there already. In the dark, she could see the lust fill his eyes. “If you won't tell me that one, tell me another.” 

“You are far more dangerous than I thought.” With that he placed his hands on the side of her face, tracing her cheekbones with his thumb. Sansa placed her hands on his arms as he leaned in. His lips molded with her's. He reached up and knotted his hand in her red hair. He controlled the pace and Sansa was more than happy to follow his lead. It wasn't gentle but it wasn't rough either. It was slow and something deep down inside her wanted more. When they broke apart, he looked at her and she could see the same desire. His lips were red and swollen and Sansa could believe that her lips looked the same. His breathing was heavy and she could feel her heart beating so rapidly. “You won't like what I have to say.” 

“I'm a big girl. I can handle it.” Sansa stated and Baelish smirked. He untangled his fingers from her hair and slowly glided them down the side of her arm. He saw her shiver, which gave him pleasure. She looked at him and she wanted him to kiss her again, but he didn't. She realized that he had far more self-control than she ever would. He turned and relinked their arms. They were silent as the strolled forward, lost in thought and it wasn't until they were close to the entrance that he spoke again. 

“I was rather surprised when your father agreed to foster Prince Joffery when he made his displeasure for the Lannisters clear.” Baelish stated and Sansa's eyebrows creased. To her it seemed so clear as to why her father agreed to such an arrangement. He had no choice. The King commanded it. 

“Prince Joffery is a Baratheon, not a Lannister. And the King commanded that his son be fostered here.” She stated in a tight voice. She didn't like discussing the time Joffery spent at Winterfell. It brought terrible memories and all she wanted was to enjoy Baelish's company. She wanted to feel his lips against her's again. She wanted to taste his mint upon her tongue. Yet, she felt as though she wasn't going to be getting anymore kisses after this conversation. 

“Joffery is far more Lannister than he is a Baratheon.” He stated as he stopped her. They were just in front of the gates to the crypt. They were still hidden by the shadows and anyone who passed by would not be able to see them. “Sinister things are stirring in King's Landing. It's best that you remember that. Can you do that?” Sansa nodded in agreement. “You've met the King. You know he prefers the company of whores and anyone that will be willing fill his bed. Anyone other than his wife. He takes no shame in hiding it. I have provided several girls from him in the past, both virgins and more experienced girls. Some have birthed his bastards. Those children all had dark black hair, yet none of King Robert's true born children do.”

“What are you say? That Joffery and his siblings are Queen Cersei's bastard children?” Sansa asked. She couldn't possibly believe that to be true. If there was one this she understood about the Queen, it was that while she may despise her husband, she loved her position. She wouldn't jeopardize that for anything......unless. Unless the father was someone worth having her head put on a stick. “Whose the father?”

“The one person she trust the most.” Baelish paused, looking directly into Sansa's eyes. She knew what he was going to say but she wouldn't believe it until he said the words aloud. She didn't want him to. She didn't want to hear it anymore, but she needed to. “The Kingslayer.” With that, Sansa felt a wave of nausea overcome her. So many emotions coursing through her all at once. Disgust, anger, sadness, filth, fury, hatred and so many others.

“I'm going to be sick.” With that Sansa pulled away from Baelish so quickly that it nearly startled him. She was hunched over and the taste of mint was replaced with bile. Baelish moved and his long fingers took her red hair, pulling it away from her face. After a few more heaves, she stood and rested against the frozen stone walls. Baelish pulled out a handkerchief with an embroidered mockingbird on it. She took it gratefully. She wiped the corners of her mouth. “He touched me. That inbred bastard touched me and there was nothing I could do about it. He is an abomination. A monster.”

“I know.” He whispered. He placed his hands on her shoulder and squeezed. He brought her close and Sansa fell into his arms. She was taller than him but it wasn't difficult to place her head into the crook of his neck. She inhaled his scent and she felt comfort and safety. She lifted her head slightly and looked down the darkened hallway of the crypt. Suddenly her stomach felt queasy again as a realization came to her. At the tower Catelyn found a long golden hair.

“Bran. He saw them. And they pushed him. They killed an innocent child to cover up their....incest.” The initial shock and disgust was wearing out and being replaced with fury. The hate she felt for Joffery and his mother had always been built out of what happened to her in the Godswood. Now that she realized that their sins where far greater, Sansa wanted nothing more than watch the life leave their eyes. For the first time she felt something deep inside her and it ate her up inside. “Its treason in so many different ways. It's treason for Cersei to bare someone else's child let alone her brother's. It's treason for Joffery to sit on the throne when the King dies. It's treason for you even to accuse the Queen of such a thing and its treason for me to want it to be true so I have justification to watch them die.” 

“Do you remember was I said before?” Baelish asked her. He looked deeply into her eyes and she nodded. “Sinister things are happening in King's Landing and who knows how it will play out.” 

“How do you know this? You haven't been to the capitol in a year.” 

“I have spies everywhere Sweetling and they keep me well informed.” He stated and Sansa pulled away slightly. She was still in his arms, not wanting to leave the protection of his arms but she needed to see his face. She looked at him and realized that whatever game he was playing, he was playing the long game. “Whatever happens I have plans and moves already in place. Whatever happens, he will never touch you again.” Baelish vowed and she believed that he would do everything in his power to help her even though she still didn't understand why.

“When I asked for a secret, why did you tell me one that could have your head end up on a spike?” Sansa asked. Part of her wanted to take back her request and never have him tell her. She wanted nothing more than to go back to that blissful ignorance. She wanted to be that naive child again where these things never would have occurred to her. She closed her eyes, wishing the image of Joffery, Bran and Cersei would leave her head.

“I always planned on telling you Sweetling, I just never thought it would be this soon.” With that, Baelish first kissed her forehead and then both of her eyelids. He slipped away from her and she opened her eyes. He was standing by the crypts entrance, bathed in the winter light. “You said you trust Arya with your life, now I'm trusting you with mine.” 

She watched as he left the crypt and Sansa felt her chest tighten. She needed to get out of the darkness and away from the dead. She suddenly pushed herself through the crypt's gates. She rushed passed some of the gold cloaks and the banner-men. She briefly saw her mother who stopped to speak with her but Sansa didn't want to speak. She didn't want to speak to anyone. She wanted to be alone in her chambers and just absorb what Baelish told her. 

She ran through the castle at breaking speed, not caring who saw her as she passed. When she reached her chambers, she opened the door and slammed it shut. Once she heard the door close, she collapsed in a heap and began to cry. The thought of Joffery and his true parentage plagued her. She hated thinking about what happened in the Godswood but she couldn't help the memories coming to her. 

She felt his hands around her throat. She smelt the honey-sickle aroma of his breath and it made her stomach turn. She could feel the twigs digging into her back and the searing pain of her hair being ripped from her head. She felt a pair of strong hand pinning her wrists above her head. She was re-feeling everything she felt that night. It was all coming back to her at once.

Sansa heard someone knock on her chamber door but she ignored it. She heard the wooden door open and close. She looked up and through her tear stained eyes she saw her sister come closer to her. Arya reached out and held Sansa close. She buried face into her younger sister's neck and continue to sob. Arya didn't say anything at first but just ran her finger's through her hair. 

“What did he do?” Arya's voice was stern and angry. She didn't like the idea of anyone hurting her sister again. Arya had become very protective of Sansa and would do just about anything to prevent her from experiencing that again. She had liked this Lord Baelish because she saw him draw something out in the eldest Stark daughter but if this was the outcome of a few moments alone together, Arya had no problem causing this man extreme pain. 

“He didn't do anything. It's just something he told me.” And with that Sansa purged everything that happened since Baelish entered the crypt. She told her of the discussion of Lyanna and the idea of secrets. She told her of the kiss and how much she yearned for it to happen again....and then she told her about Cersei and Jaime's possible involvement with Bran's death, but left out the knowledge of their affair. While she was always honest with her sister, Sansa couldn't think of such details not when the thought still caused her stomach to churn. When Sansa looked into her sister's eyes she expected to see some kind of emotion. 

What Sansa didn't expect was the pure hatred and anger that her sister portrayed. Arya pulled away from Sansa and calmly walked over to her sister's vanity. She fingered a glass that had been sitting there for the past week and after a moment she picked it up. Sansa flinched when the sound of broken glass hit the stone wall. Arya looked at her sister and her eyes were cold with no compassion in them.

“I want them dead. I want them all dead.” The air was thick between them and Sansa just gazed at her sister with compassion. “And I want to be the one to do it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay...so this chapter almost didn't make it into my story line because originally I didn't have it forwarding the story much. I hate filler chapters. All I knew was that one of my favorite scenes from season five is the crypt scene and I wanted to work that in somehow. It only adds a tiny bit to the plot, I felt it still is a rather nice scene between our two lovebirds.


	8. Chapter 8

Crofters' village was small. It only held a few amenities for the surrounding houses and farmlands. They had a tavern that would host any passing traveler, although not many people traveled this far North. If they did, they most likely were making their way to the Wall in order to take the black. The village had a blacksmith that the Starks made good use of as well as the local candlemaker. There was a market that allowed the local farmers to trade their goods. The market had not been used as frequently in the past six years. Farmers just didn't have the crops to trade. There used to be a bakery but once winter came it was difficult for the baker to grow what he needed this far north. While the structure was still standing, the baker and his wife moved south. There where a few other shops, a tavern and of course, the whorehouse that was located toward the end of town.

Like the rest of the Seven Kingdoms, Crofters' village owed taxes. Their amount was lower than White Harbor's but it was still going to cost a pretty gold dragon. However, it was an easy ride to the village than it was to White Harbor thus Ned, Robb and Lord Baelish had no reason to travel far and could return to Winterfell by the end of the day. The taxes could be collected in day or two. It gave them a good long rest before they would need to travel a distance and Sansa was grateful for that. 

The carriage creaked as it rolled along the muddy path. Catelyn and Arya sat beside Sansa arguing about a report Catelyn received Septa Mordane about Arya's lack of participation in their sewing lessons. Sansa had always been praised by the Septa while Arya was always scolded for her stitches, mainly because she didn't put any effort to take part in the lesson. At first it bothered her watching her sister always being the favorite but once her father allowed her to attend fencing lessons with Ser Rodrick, her irritation at Septa Mordane lessoned. That is until she would report to her mother about how she either didn't show or put no effort into them at all. That always caused an argument between mother and daughter.

Sansa was so used to Catelyn and Arya's arguments that she perfected the art of not hearing them. Instead she was gazing out the window at the riders. While the women rode in the carriage toward the village, the men rode horses. Out the window she could her father galloping next to Baelish. It appeared that they were deep in conversation, most likely about the taxes and how to deal with those who did not want to pay. 

She continued to watch them out the carriage window, letting her mind drift. After she calmed down and allowed the news of Joffery's parentage sink in, Sansa was able to adjust her mindset to the cold and distance mask that she had painstakingly crafted. She was able to focus more on the kiss that occurred down in the crypt instead of her other revaluations. She found herself dreaming of Baelish's lips against her's and she wished that it would happen again. However getting time alone without prying eyes was difficult in a place such as Winterfell. She knew that Arya would always cover for her but after awhile she knew that her family would get suspicious if the moment Baelish disappeared, so did she. 

While he couldn't touch her, his eyes made up for the lack of physical contact. At meals his eyes would always linger just a bit to long on her's and she always had to work to contain her blush. She knew what he was thinking and that is what caused her to have such a reaction to him. When he gazed at her and let his eyes trace the outline of her body, it took everything she had to prevent her fingers tracing her lips. In those moments she would always get vivid flashes of that kiss and the taste of mint would always linger. 

Sansa jerked out of her trance when the carriage came to a sudden stop. The door opened and she saw Robb standing outside of it. He reached in and Sansa took his hand, allowing him to help her out of the carriage. As she climbed down her eyes met Baelish's who was standing with her father. He gave her that small smirk yet there was something more dangerous about it. It was as though there was a cruelty to his smile that she hadn't seen before. The gaze didn't last long but it was enough to get Sansa's mind racing. 

Once everyone was out of the carriage, Arya stood next to Sansa and Catelyn looked between the two girls. She knew something was going on between the two of them but she couldn't exactly figure what it was. She loved the relationship the two girls developed over the years. Catelyn thought it was because of Sansa's supposed wildling attack but it ran much deeper than that. As much as she enjoyed the bond, she was not enjoying how they so willing covered for each other. She certainly never had such a relationship with Lysa. 

“And where are the two of you headed again?” Catelyn asked for the thousandth time that morning. Sansa spun the story that she wanted to go the bookstore to see if they received a new shipment from King's Landing yet. Getting new books was a rare deal during the winter but it was always worth a try especially if one of her family members was headed into the village. 

“The bookstore.”

“The both of you?” 

“Yes.” 

“I'm sure Sansa can find a book on her own. I would feel more comfortable if you stayed with us.” Catelyn stated. She felt the strong desire to separate her two daughters and it didn't help matters much that she was rather cross with Arya. However, Arya was beginning to panic. She couldn't go with their father because she wouldn't be able to go to the blacksmith. Of course she could give Needle to Sansa but as much as she loved her sister, Sansa would have no idea as to what needed done. 

“I'll escort them to their destination Mother.” Robb stated and both Sansa and Arya felt a sigh of relief. Catelyn looked at her oldest son with narrowed eyes. The three Stark children attempted to put on the perfect look of innocence. 

“You need to stay with your father to collect the taxes.” Catelyn looked at her eldest with suspicion. She trusted him because of the man he had become and he has never done anything to break that trust. He always did his duty just like his father and never complained. He excelled when he put forth the effort and was learning quickly at becoming the future Lord of Winterfell. 

“I will walk with them and when we get there I will leave them and pick them up once the taxes are collected. You will stay put correct?” Robb stated looking at his sisters. Arya nodded and Sansa could help but smirk. She wasn't the only Stark child who learned to become a decent liar after all. Robb was surprising her. Granted he wasn't lying, but just leaving information out. 

“Fine but I don't want either of you wondering off.” Catelyn stated and walked over to her husband who was waiting for her. Once Ned, Baelish and Catelyn walked off in the opposite direction, the three siblings went down the path that led to the bookstore but made a sharp turn down another road. 

“Impressive.” Sansa smirked. She knew her mother would have allowed her to go on her own because she thought the young women wouldn't get into any type of trouble. However, with Arya along it was a completely different story. Robb blush lightly and laughed.

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” The blacksmith wasn't far from the village entrance. Robb pulled out Needle and handed it to Arya. “Once you are finished with this, go to the bookstore incase Mother decides to check up on you. It would be best if you buy something, anything really. Please don't wonder off.” With that Robb walked off leaving the two sisters behind. Arya raised her eyebrows in a laugh. 

“Needle just needs sharpened, it won't take us very long.” With that Arya ducked under the open archway and into the blacksmith. Sansa leaned against the stone pillar letting the heat wash over her. On the rare occasion that she does come to the village, the blacksmith was the only person she ever saw not wearing a cloak. She always assumed it was because working side a place that is so warm all the time made the extra clothing unnecessary. 

Sansa heard a giggle and she turned her head to see Theon walking down a back-alley street with a women who was practically molded into him. After a few seconds Theon pushed the women up against the wall and latched his lips onto hers. Sansa could see his hands roam her in a very indecent manner. She saw how Theon reached down to lift the bottom on her skirt and then his hand disappeared beneath the fabric causing the women to arch into him. Arya came back out after a few moments and stopped beside Sansa.

“He said it will only be a few moments.” Arya stated and then followed her older sister's line of sight. Her face twisted up in disgust. “Ugh. Really? Out in the open?” It was obvious that Theon was getting more and more brazen with his affairs. He really showed no discretion and it was as though he wanted to know how far he could go before there was any type of repercussions. However Sansa knew that if Theon was caught with his hand up the wrong girl's skirt, he wouldn't like the consequences. 

“Yep. Looks like it.” After a few moments Theon pulled away from the women and her skirts fell. The women pulled on Theon's hands and led him inside the building, disappearing from sight. Sansa just glared at that door and scowled in displeasure. Upon learning that Baelish owed brothels, she realized it wasn't the brothels that disgusted her about Theon's actions, it was his complete disregard for her family and everything they have done for him. She didn't care if he visited brothels and laid with whores, if he did it with some discretion. It was easier to turn a blind eye at such actions if they were not laid out in front of her.

“It would appear that neither of you are fan of the young Iron Born.” The Stark girls turned to see Baelish leaning agains the stonewall of the blacksmith's shop. It appeared that he saw the same exact scene that they had witnessed. He was wearing that smirk but there was something cold about it. While it still sent shivers down her spine, Sansa could tell there was something menacing about it that had never been there before when he looked at her. He was clearly displeased.

“No I'm not. Perhaps you should take him to the Capitol when you return. He would be a good customer.” Sansa stated. While she didn't want Baelish to leave, she knew it was a matter of time and if he could take Theon with him it would make life at Winterfell that much easier. 

“He would make a regular customer but not a good one. The Iron Island's are bankrupt. An heir with no gold doesn't make a good customer.” Baelish stated as he pushed off the wall and walked toward the two girls. “I hear congratulations are in order.” 

“Congratulations? I don't understand?” 

“I received a letter from Lord Royce. Apparently your father wrote to him hoping to make a marriage between you and the young Harrold Hardyng.” That was it. The reason why he seemed so cold. He didn't like the idea of her being married off this Lord Hardyng. She just realized that Baelish was Lord Protector of the Vale, the chances of him knowing Lord Hardyng were high. “If this is what you want, I could arrange the match easily. Young Harry will be worship the ground you walk on when I'm done and you will be his wife before summer is upon us.” 

Baelish was jealous. Sansa knew she should try and defuse the situation and tell him she wanted nothing of the marriage. She should tell him that it was all out of her hands and that she had no part in the arrangement. It seriously infuriated her that her parents promised to keep her informed and then contacted a man she has never met in order hoping to make a marriage. However, she couldn't help and be curious about pushing Baelish further. She wanted to see what he would do.

“You know Lord Hardyng then? What is he like?” Sansa asked and she could see his eyes narrow in displeasure. He knew what she was doing and it only fueled his jealousy. She could see it in his eyes when the would flash dangerously to her. She felt Arya back away slightly but that look only pushed Sansa forward. “Is he handsome?” 

“Oh yes. He is a very handsome with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. Very noble and brave. A real prince that one. Talented when it comes to tourneys and the maiden who marries him will be the envy of the Vale.” Sansa saw his cheap shots for what they were, fury at a situation that he didn't plan for. Of course she knew that whatever happened he would turn it in his favor, if he felt the inclination to do so. “And he is of course the most dedicated father.” 

“Father?”

“Yes. He has about four bastard daughters now. One of these days he is bound to produce a son. Pity for their mother's though, he simply tosses them aside once they give birth.” He stated and saw the scowl that was threatening to form on her lips. This Harry was another Theon and Sansa knew she would never be happy with someone like that. “Is that what you want Sweetling?”

Their eyes met and neither were willing to break away. She didn't know how to respond. Part of her wanted to continue to edge him on and see how much it would take for him to break. She wanted to know what he would do because she was sure that she would enjoy the outcome. Her mind flashed to the kiss in the crypt. The other part of her wanted to see if he would help her get out of this arrangement. 

“No.” One simple word brought back that cheeky smirk back to his lips and Sansa realized that she missed it. While his irritation was fun to toy with she knew that making him happy was far more pleasing. She felt this surge of pride and affection at seeing his relief appear on his face. The three of them startled when they heard a couch beside them. The blacksmith stood there with Needle and his eyes darting between the three of them. Arya jumped forward and took the sword from the blacksmith's hands. Baelish stepped forward and withdrew a small black pouch. He handed the blacksmith five gold dragons and smirked. A sharpening of a sword normally cost only two silver stages.

“For your services and your silence.” The blacksmith looked at Baelish and the coins in his hand. He took the gold greedily and ducked back inside his shop. Sansa knew that the blacksmith would always give excellent service to them now and she could go inside and ask him for anything, which he would willing give. The blacksmith's family would be able to eat well for at least a month. “Enjoy your book m'lady.” Baelish nodded toward Arya and began to make his way down the cobbled street. Sansa huffed and started taking strides after him. 

“Petyr.” She called and she saw him stop. He turned with a leer and a raised eyebrow. Her eyes darted around and she only saw a few villagers about, none of which paid her any mind. She looked over her shoulder and saw Arya standing a few steps behind her, watching her curiously. Baelish took a few paces toward her but stopped short at the appropriate distance. “You said you could make Lord Hardyng worship the ground I walk on. Could you do the opposite? Could you make it that he would want any other bride but me?” 

“I could. It would be relatively easy.” He let silence over come them for a moment as Sansa watched his eyes. They trailed over her, from head to toe. She felt herself blush but wouldn't look away from him. If she looked away it would portray her as a weak naive child. She felt that she was anything but that. “Of course I would need something from you first.”

“Anything.” Sansa smiled and tilted her head slightly. She saw his eyes flash down to her lips and he licked his slightly. She knew what he was thinking. His mind was traveling to the crypt and the thought of his lips on her's. She knew that he wanted to feel that again because she certainly did. Sansa would kiss him again willingly, without wanting anything in return. 

“Tell me how to do it?” He stepped closer and took her hand in his. He smirked at her and Sansa felt herself inhale sharply. “Tell me how to make this man not want to touch you. Tell me how to do it. Give me a plan. Give me direction.” His last words where whispered in her ear and she shuddered. She knew that after today the entire village would be wealthier after this. Ironic Sansa thought seeing as they reason he was in the village in the first place. 

Sansa racked her brain. Different thoughts and ideas where running through her mind and it didn't help that he had his one hand running up and down her arm while the other stroked her knuckles. Even though his hands where covered by his gloves, it still caused a surge of desire run through her. How different he was now that he was happy. She glanced around and saw a few villagers glancing their way but she knew that Baelish would pay them well. Her reputation would be safe.

Her reputation. 

“You said that I have a reputation in King's Landing. Send a raven to someone in the Vale. Anyone. Someone who likes to talk to anyone and everyone. Send them a raven hinting at my” Sansa leaned closer and pressed her lips his ear. “shameful behavior.” It took all the self-control she possessed but she pulled away and walked toward her Arya who was looking at her with shocked filled eyes. “I've come to realize that most men are hypocrites. Those who willing claim to be noble and brave rarely are. This boy seems to be willing to bed women but I doubt he would like a bride who is rumored to have done the same.” 

“Very well.” Baelish stated with his eyes still lingering over her. “I will write to Myranda Waynwood's father the moment we get back to the castle. I'm sure he would be more than willing to inform dear Harry of everything I have to tell him.” With one last smirk Baelish withdrew the black pouch again and Sansa knew he would going to bribe a few people for their silence. “Of course I won't be able to control who else Lord Waynwood tells or who he writes.” She knew what he meant. Gold could buy silence but only so much. 

“Its a risk I'm willing to take.” While the last thing she wanted was for her parents to learn of the rumors going around Kings Landing but if it got her of a marriage to Harrold Hardyng, she was more than will to gamble with it. He seemed pleased by the answer. His smirk grew wider and that mischievous glint was in his eyes. “Why are you so willing to help me? Besides the obvious?” 

“Because I want to see what you are made of Sweetling.” With that he turned and walked in the opposite direction. Sansa turned and Arya was by her side with a worried look on her face. While Arya was fine with her sister getting to know Baelish, she didn't realize how deep the waters her sister was falling into were. If she sank any deeper there wouldn't be a way out. He would consume her and who knew what unspeakable things she would be willing to do. 

“Sansa this is a dangerous game you're playing.” Arya stated. The two of them started walking quickly toward the bookstore. If they knew their mother, she would be at the bookstore looking for them. The last thing they needed was for her to see them somewhere other than they said they would be. She also couldn't see Needle but Arya was always talented at stashing the sword away at a moment's notice. 

“I know.” Part of her was scolding herself for being so reckless. She knew that Baelish would take care of the bystanders but what if one of her family other than Arya saw her? Robb could have come around that corner at any second. Their mother could have come in search for them and she was pretty sure she suspected Arya of having a sword so the blacksmith would have been her first guess. Their father trusted them but could have come down that street to collect the taxes. Although she assumed the reason Baelish was there was in order to collect that part of the village. Theon could have walked out of the brothel and she knew he would say something in a heartbeat. The risks were running wild through her mind but she didn't care. Despite all of it, she couldn't wait to do it again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this chapter is something I'm really proud of. I always wanted getting out of the marriage to Hardyng to be her real first move towards taking control of her life. She does not want to be a pawn for anyone, even her parents and Petyr knows this. He wants her to make her own choices. If she did want to marry Hardyng he would have arranged it gladly.
> 
> However, I don't think they would have been married long in my AU..because well, I think Petyr would have arranged some type of accident.....*shifts eyes*


	9. Chapter 9

Winterfell was bursting. It was the first day in six years that snow didn't fall from the sky. In the last year the snow has gotten lighter and didn't pile as deep but everyday the sky would open and flakes would fall. Yet the sky was crystal blue and not a single flake was spotted. The sun shined warmer than it had in years and one of the servants swore they saw an icicle begin to melt. People were rejoicing at the real first sign of summer and the halls of Winterfell where mostly empty. 

Yet, while most of the inhabitance of Winterfell ventured outside to enjoy the good weather, one person in-particular stayed within the stone walls. It wasn't that Arya didn't want to find Ser Rodrick for a fencing lesson or didn't want to be exploring parts of the Godswood that had been unreachable because of the snow, there was something else she had spotted in the sky. While not a single snow flake had been seen, Arya saw a clear black raven fly over head. 

She knew that the raven would not be coming for her but instead for her father. The Lord of Winterfell was in the Barrowlands and had been for the last ten days in order to collect taxes. However, just because he was not psychically in the castle, Arya knew that the letter that the raven carried would still be opened. Catelyn always opened her husband's correspondences when he was away. It was a habit that developed early in their marriage and continued on throughout the years.

Arya knew that her mother would break the seal, read the letter and stow it away in her father's desk. Arya knew all the passageways and hiding spots in Winterfell and there was this small conclave hidden behind the painting of Brandon the Builder that was located near her father's solar. She stayed there for an hour, slipping in when she heard her mother's voice inside the solar and only leaving once she knew Catelyn was gone. 

Very carefully Arya slipped out from behind the painting, making sure that she made no noise. The last thing she wanted was to alert a guard or her mother that she had been hiding in the conclave. While she could lie easily enough as to why she was there, she didn't want her mother to know the conclave was there at all. She lived through that ordeal when she was ten and her mother caught her using the passageway from the armory to the library. She learned that day to know for certain that no one is on the other side of a doorway before swinging it open. Catelyn was not sure if she was more angry about the unexpected door opening and causing a rather nasty bruise or the fact that her youngest daughter had been sneaking into the armory in order to play with the guards swords. 

Once she was certain that no one else was in the darkened corridor Arya moved quickly from the painting toward her father's solar. Her skirts bustled at her ankles and her boots made a light tapping noise against the stone. Once she reached the solar's door she pressed her ears against the wood just to be sure that no one was waiting inside. She turned the bronze knob and huffed in frustration. The door was locked. 

Rolling her chocolate brown eyes, Arya reached down and pulled out a small knife that she swiped from the kitchens. She took the knife and placed it inside of the keyhole. She turned it slightly until she heard a small click and pushed the door open. Arya stepped inside the solar and slowly closing the door behind her, making sure it made no sound as it closed. Once completely shut inside, Arya dashed toward her father's desk and pulled open a few drawers. Nothing. 

Arya looked at the top of the oak desk and grabbed a few stacks of papers. She read through them, hoping to find what she was looking for. Of course she wasn't certain that the raven carried news that they craved. Arya was about to give in when a small scroll caught her eye. It was simply sitting near the quill and ink pot. She picked it up and noticed that the seal was broken. Smiling in triumph, Arya unrolled the scroll and read. Her smile growing wider as she placed the scroll back in the exact same spot as it was before. Leaving the desk behind, she headed over to the wooden door and poked her head out into the corridor. She paused and felt a spot of panic well up in her chest when she heard her mother's voice echoing down the corridor. Arya hadn't been seen but she knew if she didn't move quickly, she would see her mother more furious than she has ever seen her before. 

Once the door was shut tight and locked she took off down the corridor as fast as her feet would carry her. She headed toward the Great Keep and she could feel the heat from the hot springs touch her skin. Before she could allow the heat the produce a sweat, Arya was climbing up a ladder and opened a small latch in the ceiling. Once she was through the latch, she was able to slide herself through a tiny passageway that went in a downward angle. At the bottom of the passageway was another latch and with her feet, Arya was able to push the latch open. 

She slipped slightly and ended up landing flat on her back. She felt dazed for a moment before regaining her sense. She stood and looked around the glass gardens. It was always warm there because of the springs and it help them grow crops in any season. She walked slowly, letting the scenery take her. She always loved the glass gardens because no matter the season it always stayed the same. She headed down a few cobbled pathways before she heard a high pitched laughter.

Arya turned to follow the sound and saw Sansa looking bored as Jeyne Poole giggle beside her. Jeyne was telling a story that she seemed highly animated about. Her hands where moving as she talked and she seemed completely oblivious to the fact that Sansa was not paying the slightest attention to her. Instead of paying attention to her friend, Sansa was picking at her nails and wore a completely bored expression on her face. Smirking, Arya stepped up to them.

“I've been looking for you.” Arya stated, not bothering with pleasantries. Jeyne, who was completely wrapped up in her own story jumped and yelped in surprise. Jeyne placed her hand on her heart while Sansa placed a finger on the outside of her hear. Her face crunched up in irritation as she rubbed her ear. “I need to speak with you.” 

Arya's eyes flashed toward the other girl, whose eyes was flashing between the two of them. She had a curious look upon her face as though she wanted to know what Arya had to say. While the steward's daughter wasn't the biggest fan of the younger Stark girl, she couldn't help but admit that she always had the most fascinating tales. She didn't fully understand the bond Arya and Sansa created over the last few years and she would be lying if she wasn't at all jealous. 

“Jeyne, Arya and I really need to have some sister time. You understand, don't you?” Sansa asked her friend with a smile that most would assume is sincere. Yet, Arya knew her sister and that smile she flashed wasn't in the least a kind one. However, Jeyne wasn't understanding what Sansa was trying convey. While Sansa was talented at being subtle, Arya preferred a more direct approach. 

“Go away Jeyne.” Arya stated and Sansa attempted to suppress a smirk. Jeyne huffed and narrowed her eyes at Arya. 

“You don't have to be so rude.” Jeyne snapped and turned on her heels. The sisters watched her walk away and listen to her mutter about how Arya was anything but a lady. The two of them snorted and Sansa linked her arms with Arya. While Arya was not someone who liked to stroll in the gardens, she was always willing to humor her sister. Despite everything that has happened, Sansa still enjoyed a good stroll. 

“I believe I owe you a thank you.” Sansa stated and Arya raised an eyebrow. “If you hadn't interrupted I would have had to continue to listen to her go on about Theon. If she tells me one more time about how his hair moves when he walks and what the crook of his smile was like, I might have vomited in the vegetable patch.” 

“You don't find Theon's smile just dazzlingly? For shame. What is wrong with you?” Arya joked and Sansa elbowed her sister. Arya's smile grew even more wicked. “Of course Theon is no Lord Baelish.” She said in a sly manner and her sister blushed to the point that her face matched her hair. Once Arya got over the initial shock of Sansa's behavior in the village, she made it her mission to tease her sister at every possible interval. But the feelings being with Baelish brought out in her, it caused the desire to be brazen and everything that she was taught not to be. A lady never spoke to a gentleman the way she spoke to Baelish that day in the village. A lady never kissed a man she wasn't married to, especially in her family's crypt. 

“Don't you have something you need to tell me?” Sansa asked and Arya laugh lightly. She laid her head on her sister's shoulder. Sansa had always been the tallest of the Stark children, even being slightly taller than Robb, and it made resting Arya's head on her shoulder that much easier. 

“Yes. I do in fact.” The younger girl looked around to make sure no one was in sight. Knowing Jeyene, she would have stayed around simply to hear what the two girls where discussing. She was worried about what others thought of her and if any gossip about her would make their way back to Theon. She didn't want anything hurting her chances with him. “Father got a raven this morning.” 

“Father gets ravens every morning.” Since Ned, Baelish and Robb left on another journey to the Barrowlands, the two girls have been watching the skies for ravens in hopes that Baelish would keep his word. They soon realized how often the Lord of Winterfell received contact from other parts of the Seven Kingdoms. Arya learned more of the responsibility her father held by breaking into his solar and reading his correspondence. Neither girl were jealous of Robb and the privy he held with their father anymore. 

“Not from the Eyrie he doesn't.” Sansa stopped in her tacks causing Arya to stumble. Ice blue eyes where wide and Sansa could feel her heart begin to race. This was the moment she had been waiting for and dreading for the last two weeks. It was nearly unbearable because for ten of those days Baelish had been gone. At least when he was at Winterfell she had his innuendos and lustful stares to distract her. With him gone, she was simply alone with her thoughts. 

“What did it say?” Her voice was hoarse and she could hardly hear herself. Arya was silent and she just looked at her sister. She felt her eyes water. It didn't work. She had hoped that Baelish's word about her reputation would ruin any chance she had to be forced into a marriage she didn't want. There must have been a factor she didn't think of. Perhaps he liked ruined girls. “No.”

“Lord Hardyng is to be married” Arya paused for a moment and then smirked. “to Myranda Waynwood.” With that Sansa snapped her head up and her eyes grew wide. The breath she didn't realize that she had been holding was released. Once she realized what her sister had done, Sansa raised her hand and smacked her sister on the shoulder. Hard. “Ouch!” 

“That wasn't nice.” Sansa snapped as she felt her heart calm down. She breathed in deeply and let the relief wash over her. She would not have to marry Lord Hardyng. She wasn't sure if he was already engaged to this Myranda Waynwood when Baelish's letter reached Lord Waynwood, but she doubted it. Baelish would have known. Someone would have told him and he would not have acted like a jealous fool when he learned the news. Sansa smirked. She liked him playing the fool when it came to her. “Did the letter say anything else?” 

“Just that Lord Royce was sorry to inform Father that Lord Hardyng was already promised to another.” Arya spoke and then took a slight breath. “There wasn't any mention of the rumors going around King's Landing but he did mention that Lord Hardyng wasn't interested in a bride of your......maturity.” 

“Maturity? The letter actually said maturity?” Arya nodded. “He makes it sound as though I'm elderly!” She didn't know this Myranda Waynwood but she couldn't be any younger than her. “I suppose it is better than him just saying that I'm ruined.”

“I wouldn't say that too loudly.” Arya whispered and pointed. Just outside of the glass gardens stood Jeyne but she wasn't paying the girls any attention. Instead she was giggling wildly at Theon who looked as though he might spill his last meal at any given second. Neither Sansa nor Arya were surprised. Theon functioned at two levels, drunk and between some girl's legs or living with the aftereffect of a night of drinking and being between some girl's legs. 

Jeyne reached out and touched Theon's arm. She clearly wanted to let Theon know that she was interested in him but it amazed Sansa how naive and clueless she was. Didn't she realize what Theon did with his time? It was no secret and he made no attempts to hide it, yet here was a young girl who could have a decent life with someone who was fit for her station throwing herself at someone less deserving in Sansa's opinion. Jeyne truly believed that he would one day wake up and realize that he loved her. They would have a beautiful wedding and they would ride off into the snow just like in those songs Sansa used to love. 

To Jeyne, she was the hero. She thought that she would be able to save the young Lord from self-destruction and life would be nothing but a song. Sansa wanted to shake her and slap her to make her realize that Theon was never going to marry her. If anything he would convince her to life her skirts and it would ruin her, just like Sansa was. The only thing Sansa had going for her was the ability to hide what had happened to her. Yet she knew that Jeyne would never keep it a secret and that would be her downfall. 

While Sansa found the girl irritating, she didn't want to watch what would happened to her. It wasn't that she really cared or felt any type of affection for Jeyne but the mere thought of an innocent girl being lead down a difficult path made Sansa want to step in. She was projecting and she knew it. Suddenly, Theon wasn't Theon anymore but instead Joffery. Sansa walked up to the two of them and looked between them. 

“Sansa! Theon was just telling me the most interesting story. Apparently-” 

“Jeyne I need to speak with Theon for a moment please.” Sansa flashed the young girl a small smile but it didn't reach her eyes. There was one time when Jeyne would have done anything Sansa asked without question but Jeyene had become defiant. Sansa couldn't blame her, not really. She hadn't been very kind to her the last couple of years. While she knew this, Sansa couldn't bring herself to feel guilty about her actions. 

“Why?” Jeyne asked as she glared at Sansa, who had to hold back a laugh. She knew what this girl was thinking. Jeyene was worried that Sansa had decided to make a claim on Theon. Just the thought of such an act made the lady's stomach clench in disgust. There was no part of her that would ever allow Theon to touch her. “What do you have to say to him that you can't say to me?”

“Jeyne go away.” Arya huffed in annoyance. 

“No.” With that Arya rolled her eyes and grabbed the grey wool that covered Jeyne's arm. Arya yanked and started to pull her down the hall. While the older girl might be taller, she was no match for Arya, who was not being kind as she dragged her away. All the way down the hall Sansa could hear the girl protesting for Arya to let her go. 

“What do you want Sansa?” Theon asked with a tired voice. Sansa scrunched up her nose when the smell of ale rolled off of him. He brought his forefinger and his thumb to the bridge of his nose and pinched. It was as though he was fighting off a migraine and from the state of him, it really didn't surprise Sansa in the least. If anything she was surprised he was still able to stand. 

“I want you to stay away from Jeyne. She is young and she doesn't need the likes of you ruining her.” She wanted to make herself clear. “She is innocent and still believes the world is made up of heroes that always win and for some reason that I cannot comprehend, she has casted you as the knight in shining armor. So do her a favor and break her heart now before she realizes who you really are.” 

Theon was silent for a moment as he just looked at her. His eyes were empty at first but she was used to that. Yet after a moment there was a spark. Theon stood up straighter and his shoulder's squared. He shifted his weight onto one leg. Sansa had a stray hair hanging lose and when Theon reached up to tuck it away, her reflexes kicked in and she grabbed his wrist.

“Don't touch me.” Her voice was forceful but she sensed a tint of fear in it. Theon noticed it too and he gave her a disgusting smile. He pulled his wrist out of her hand with a jerk. Once his hand was free he continued to place that stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“As my lady wishes.” With that Theon turned on his heals and Sansa couldn't help but feel as though she made a big mistake. She let her emotions get the best of her wits and she acted on anger alone. She normally had better control but now she questioned herself. Theon had been whoring his life away and while it was disgusting, he wasn't causing any type of harm to anyone other than himself. Yet, she had never seen such anger in him before.

That look in his eye made her shiver. She remembered Theon as a child. He had been so happy and playful. He would always tell her stories of the Iron Islands even though he scarcely remembered them. He would tell her of the ocean and how the breeze from the sea salt felt against his skin. Theon always dreamt of going back to his home because she understood that Winterfell was nothing more than a temporary cage to him. 

He had always been a friend to her, until he wasn't. Theon always enjoyed chasing girls, even before the news of his family's downfall reached them. Yet once that news broke its like whatever dream Theon had about home was suddenly gone. Sansa could sympathize with that but she couldn't condone the path he was heading down. It was like they were one and the same in many ways. Both of them had dreams of bigger and better things, and those dreams were crushed in the most brutal way possible. The difference came in the aftermath. Sansa simply shut down and became just as cold as the snow that fell outside. Where as Theon blocked himself out of reality to the point that all he could focus on were the things that were taken from him. 

“Sansa!” She turned and saw Arya running towards her with a wide smile on her lips. Arya reached out and took Sansa by the hand. She started pulling her sister down the hallway but was much gentler than she had been with Jeyne. 

“What is it?”

“Riders have been spotted near the King's Gate. I guess they took advantage of the nice weather and came back early.” With that Sansa's uneasiness was replaced with small flips of her stomach. Baelish was coming back to Winterfell and she wasn't going to be shipped off to the Vale like some prize. Despite Theon and the worries he gave her, nothing could break the grin that grew on her features.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, no Petyr in this chapter. Just a few things I need to take care of in order to push plot forward and it wouldn't have worked if he was in this chapter.
> 
> I always planned the Hardyng story line to be short. I need Sansa to really take the first step into controlling her own life and finding a way out of a marriage was perfect and it fit into the story nicely. Plus it made Petyr jealous and that is always fun!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well I have a gift for you all on this Father's Day. I hope this makes up for the lack of Petyr in the last chapter.

It was late out and a fire was lit in her crate. The stars hung over Winterfell as almost everyone in the castle slept. The corridors were silent except for the footsteps of the guards and the flicker of the torches that hung on the wall. It had been hours since the evening meal had passed and most of those who arrived back to Winterfell from the Barrowlands were exhausted. The meal that was prepared was simple yet enjoyable. The trip to the Barrowlands had been far more successful, causing Ned to feel as though the North wasn't as far in debt as he thought. Yet, he knew better than to assume that they were in the clear. 

Both Ned and Robb claimed to be exhausted and retired to their chambers earlier than they would have on any other given day. Hearing that the Lord of the castle would be asleep well before the moon hung high in the sky, caused a devious smile to grace his lips. His grey-green eyes flashed to Sansa who had been sending him sly glances all evening. When their eyes would meet across the wooden table and the clanking to silver, Baelish's long fingers would grace his lips. It suddenly became as though everything tasted of mint. 

Sansa couldn't help but feel the twinge of disappointment when Baelish claimed the same fatigue as her father and brother. He claimed that he would retire early as well, following Ned and Catelyn out of the dining hall. She had hoped that he would linger behind but as she watched him retreat, Sansa felt her stomach drop. 

She stayed down in the Great Hall for a time with Arya before heading toward her chambers. The two girls parted ways at the landing, their chambers being in different corridors. It was dark and the only light that shown was the flames from the torches. As always, Sansa would let her fingers trace over the stone of the walls and she let herself linger ever so slightly in the halls. She knew that she was in for a restless night with nothing more than her tossing and turning.When she got close to her chambers she heard a noise that caused her stop. The noise was the sound of someone inhaling sharply and footsteps walking toward her. 

Before she could turn, Sansa felt two strong arms circle around her waist. She felt her back lean against a strong chest and the feel of warm breath graced her neck. She felt one of his strong hands begin to trail a line from her waist to up to her collar bone. When he reached her shoulder he lowered the fabric down, exposing her skin. She felt the chill of the air linger over her skin and it was soon replaced with his lips. He placed as small kiss on her shoulder and then slowly trailed a small line with his lips until he reached the small of her neck. When he reached that spot, Sansa inhaled sharply and moaned. He sucked there for a moment before breaking away.

“Sweet dreams Sweetling.” With that he pulled away from her and Sansa could hear the quick pace of his footsteps retreating from her. She turned and saw him walking quickly down the corridor. He never looked back at her. Sansa took a few steps backwards and then turned so quickly that she almost stumbled. 

That night when Sansa attempted to sleep, it never came. Her thoughts were plagued of his lips on her neck. She reached up and traced the spaces on her neck where his lips touched her skin. The fire in the crate was still flickering and Sansa watched the shadows dance across her walls. After a moment Sansa heard a small scuffle outside her door. Sansa sat up in her bed causing the warm fur blankets ripple down to her waist. It was quick and brief but Sansa saw a small piece of parchment slip underneath her door. She climbed out of her bed and headed over to the door. She bent down and picked up the parchment. It was smooth and unlike parchment her father used to attend to business. At the top was a beautiful mockingbird. 

Come to the bridge above the Great Keep.

The handwriting was small and elegant. Sansa ran a fingertip over the words and she could feel the ink still wet upon the parchment. She folded the note and went over a candle. She put the note over the flame and lit the note on fire. She went over to her window, opened it and let the burning flames fly out into the night sky. She took a deep breath and saw mist flow from her lips. She felt the cold air enter her lungs, giving her the bravery she needed. 

Sansa pushed away from the window, grabbed her robe and slipped on a small pair of boots. She tied the robe around her waist and ran the brush through her red hair before grabbing a candle. Sansa stepped out into the corridor, closed the door behind her and briskly walked down the stone passageway. She may not have known the castle as well as Arya but she knew the quickest route to the Great Keep. Once she reached her destination, Sansa looked up at the bridge that ran through the warmest room of Winterfell. While it was called a bridge, Sansa always thought it looked more like a room. It did connect the upper levels of the Great Keep together but the one side was covered in glass windows and the other was nothing more than a stone wall.

There was a small stone stairwell that lead up to the bridge and Sansa walked over to it. As she climbed the stone steps, she could see a figure move up in the bridge. She opened the door and stepped inside. Baelish stood there with his back to her, gazing out the glass window. 

“Lord Baelish?” Baelish turned and gave her a small smirk. He strolled toward her at a heartbreakingly slow pace. Sansa could feel her heart begin to speed up at just the sight of him.

“I thought we were past all this Lord Baelish business. Call me Petyr.” With that he took the candle from her hands, letting his skin just brush against her's and sat the candle down on the window's ledge. His eyes traveled over her and she could hear him exhale as she noticed that she only wore her sleeping chaise and a robe to cover herself with. “I found that I had trouble sleeping and I wondered if you faired any better.” 

“No, I did not.” The words were thick in her throat and they were hard to get out. She looked at him and for the first time since she had known him, he wasn't dressed to the nines. His breeches where looser with no belt holding them up and while his tunic was tucked in, it hung open letting Sansa see his smooth chest. Never before had she him without the long coat that seemed to always hold his appearance together. Even the mockingbird pin that he wore clasped to his collar was missing. 

“Good.” With that Baelish smashed his lips to hers. While the kiss they shared in the crypt was dominating, it could not compare to the forcefulness of his lips against her during this kiss. Sansa reached her arms around his shoulders as she felt his tongue press against her lips and found it's way into her mouth. Their mouths continued to play with each other until Sansa had to break away for air. 

Baelish moved his mouth along her jawline and he latched onto the small of her neck. Sansa craned her neck, giving him better access. He placed his hands on her hips and steered her so her back was resting against the stone wall. While he continued to suckle at her neck, he slowly began to untie her robe. When the belt of the robe was undone, he let the robe hang open as he took his hands and pushed the material off of her shoulders. While she was still completely covered by her sleeping chase, it clung to her in such a way that it didn't leave much to the imagination. 

He trailed his kisses from the small of her neck to the top of her breast where the fabric met her skin. As he licked and sucked, Sansa was still uncertain what she should be doing and let him take the lead. His one hand was pressed against the stone wall and his other worked its way down her body, lightly grazing the hardened nub of her left breast. He reached down and holstered her left leg around his hip, allowing himself to press closer against her. Part of the long sleeping chase rode up, allowing the skin of her thigh to show and Baelish rested his hand there, drawing small infuriating circles against her sensitive skin. 

Feeling the need to be doing something with her hands, Sansa began to slowly unbutton his shirt. Once the shirt was completely unfashioned, Baelish moved his hands and pushed the offending fabric off of him, letting his bare chest free. She wrapped her arms around his body, weaving her fingers through his black hair, pulling his head from her chest and she latched her lips back onto his. As they kissed, Sansa dragged her nails down his back causing him to hiss deliciously into her mouth. 

Baelish placed his hand back on her leg that was holstered around his waist moved it forward. He slowly pushed the fabric of her sleeping chase toward her waist. When his hand got close enough he moved his hand southward and cupped her mound. Baelish spread her lips with his fingers and his thumb began to make the same movements against her nub as he had been against her leg. Sansa's hips jerked forward and she arched her back. Her mind flashed to the women she saw Theon with in the back alleyway and she understood the women's reaction. The things Baelish was doing to that part of her body was heavenly. Her hips began to move at their own accord as he continued to pleasure her. She moaned into his mouth causing Baelish to simply move his thumb faster.

Baelish moved one of his fingers down her fold and slowly he eased the finger inside of her. Feeling the finger enter her, Sansa froze. Her muscles tightened and locked while her fingers clawed against his skin. Baelish stood still and pulled his lips from her's. They locked eyes and he could see that Sansa was terrified. 

“Breath Sweetling. I'm not going to hurt you.” Slowly he withdrew his finger and he could feel her relax against him. She unhooked her leg from his waist and slowly sank to the ground. Her heart was beating rapidly and she could feel that she was shanking. Baelish sat down on the ground next to her and took Sansa into his arms. He moved her gently so she was sitting on his lap and she rested her head on his shoulder. She felt him kiss the top of her head. “I'm not him. I promise you, I will never harm you.” 

“I can't. I'm sorry. I can't.” There where tears streaming down her face. What she experienced with Baelish went far beyond anything she could have possibly imagined. The feeling he evoked make her entire body quiver. Yet, the moment she felt his finger enter her, all she could see was the prince and that caused her body to freeze. 

“Not yet but you will.” His voice was soft. Baelish let the tears fall down her cheeks and onto his naked chest. Sansa could hear his heartbeat begin to slow and she so desperately wished she was able to finish what they had started. “And when you do, I promise that you will enjoy every moment of it. I will do things to your body that you never thought imaginable and you will beg for me to do it again.” 

“You seem to be making me a lot of promises.”

“And I plan on keeping every single one of them.” She looked up at Baelish and his eyes poured into her. She vowed never to trust anyone again but when she looked at him, it made her want to put all her faith in him. She knew that he was a dangerous man and the things he made her feel went beyond anything proper. She knew that it would be crazy to trust him but she couldn't help let her feelings take over.

“Okay.” With that Sansa laid her head against his chest. She looked at him for the first time since he shrugged off his tunic. On his chest was a long white scar that went from his navel to his collar bone. The words he said to her father when he first came to Winterfell entered her mind. I still carry a token of his esteem. From navel to collar bone. She took her finger and traced the scar. “This came from my Uncle Brandon.” 

“Yes. It did.” 

“You were dueling over my mother.” Sansa stated and she felt Baelish pull away slightly from her. He looked down at her and Sansa could feel her heart speed up again. His expression was unreadable but she could tell that he wasn't angry. If anything his eyes seemed concerned. 

“Yes. We were.” He careful in his response. Baelish wasn't sure exactly where she was going with this. It was not a secret that he dueled her Uncle Brandon when Catelyn's engagement had been announced. She had been so sure that he would win because that was how the stories went. The underdog always came out on top. When he lost and nearly died, he realized life wasn't a song. He realized that he would never win on those terms. Those rules belonged to them and he didn't need to play them. Instead he was going to fuck them. 

“Do you still love her?” Sansa's voice was low as though she wasn't sure she wanted to ask him. She didn't want to anger him and she wasn't sure if she would like the answer. What if he said that he still loved her mother? Would she still be able to travel this road he was taking her down? Sansa didn't want to be a replacement. Baelish took her face in his hands and looked directly into her eyes. 

“I loved your mother more than you could possibly know.” Sansa felt her heart sink and she attempted to look away from him but he would allow her to do so. He kept his hands firmly on the sides of her face. “I will always be fond of the girl she used to be, but she is not that girl anymore and I'm not that foolhardy boy. I saw her for the first time in more than nineteen years when your aunt died and I realized that Catelyn wasn't the women I built her up to be in my mind. So no, I don't love her.”

“And who am I to you?” What use am I to you? 

“You are so much more than she ever was.” Sansa wanted to believe him but she wasn't sure if she could trust herself to. He could give her everything she ever wanted, she knew that but that doesn't mean that she wouldn't one day outgrow her usefulness to him. She smiled at him and leaned up and placed her lips on his. This kiss was light and he didn't push for more. He knew that she wasn't mentally prepared in that moment. He could wait and it would be thrilling to teach her everything he knew. 

Sansa leaned down again, resting her head against his chest. She closed her eyes and just let herself rest there. He wrapped his arms around her and she wasn't sure how long they stayed there. She dozed in and out and every few moments she would feel Baelish kiss the top of her head. They didn't speak. They didn't need to because it was just comfortable just lying there in his arms. 

“You should get back. We don't want anyone to catch us here.” He whispered to her softly after a few moments. She nodded and pulled away from him. Sansa picked up the robe that had been tossed aside and slipped it on. She looked over to Baelish who was redressing himself. She watched as his long fingers buttoned his tunic. 

“I never did say thank you.” Sansa stated in an off handed manner. She looked at the candle on the window's ledge and noticed that it wasn't anymore. It wouldn't matter. The torches would cast enough light for her to make her way back to her chamber. The sun would be up soon enough. 

“And what do you need to thank me for.” His leer was in place as he raised an eyebrow. “I never got you to that point....yet.” Sansa felt herself blush when her mind flashed to the memory of his hands causing her pleasure. She wasn't sure what he meant but if it had anything to do with his hands on her she couldn't wait to experience it. 

“For Lord Hardyng.” Sansa said with a sly smile. Baelish returned her smile with a smirk as he tucked in his tunic. He laughed lightly and Sansa couldn't help but let her eyes travel over his body as he moved. “It's something I'm very thankful for.”

“I was simply following your directions Sweetling. You come up with the strategy all on your own.” He walked over to her and pulled her close. He wrapped his arms around her middle while Sansa's arms circled around his neck. He kissed her lightly on the lips before landing one on the tip of her nose, making her giggle. “When did you learn of this? I only received my raven when I returned here.” 

“This morning....I guess yesterday morning actually. Arya might have broken into father's solar and read his mail.” This caused Baelish to laugh out loud and Sansa giggled again. He honestly could say that he wasn't in the least bit surprised. While some people would send someone else to do their dirty work for them, himself included, Arya would simply do the dirty work herself. “We were discussing it in the glass gardens before..” Sansa stopped her self and she had a scowl on her face. 

“Before?” 

“It's nothing.” She stated and pulled out of his arms. She turned but she felt him stop her. He wrapped his arms around her waits again, pulling her close so her back was touching his chest. Sansa couldn't help but put her hands on top of his locked ones. 

“Tell me.” Baelish stated as he placed a kiss on her shoulder. She sighed and melted into his arms. She liked how comforting it was to simply be in his arms. While she highly anticipated the heated kisses and the passionate moments, the pure moments of letting him hold her caused just as much of a reaction. 

“It's nothing but when Arya and I where talking about Lord Hardyng's engagement, I saw Theon talking with Jeyne.” When Baelish gave her a confused looked, she realized he was not sure who Jeyne was. “She is the steward's daughter. Anyway, Jeyne has taken a fancy to Theon, I can't understand why, and I'm worried that he will take advantage of her. I saw them and I got so angry that I told Theon he needed to stay away from Jeyne.” Sansa let out a huff and turned in Baelish's arm. “I don't even know why I care! I can hardly stand to be around her! She is so annoying and childish and she still believes that the world is this happy safe place. She just.......Jeyne reminds me of who I was...before. It's not that care if she is ruined. I don't really. It might actually make my life easier if she was but I just saw how I used to be when I looked at Joffery.” 

“And that is why you where angry. You saw a young girl who might be taken advantage of. You were projecting and Sweetling, it is normal.” He leaned in and kissed her lightly. “I would have adored seeing you threaten the Iron Born. I'm sure it was a sight.”

“I wouldn't call it that but I'm sure it will backfire on me.” 

“If it does, then you simply have to turn it to your favor.” This caused Sansa to throw her head back and laugh. Baelish couldn't resists the sight and latched his lips onto her neck. The feel of his tongue tracing her pulse point caused her to moan. 

“And how” moan “am I” moan “to do that?” Sansa dug her nails into his arm and she couldn't help pull lightly on his hair. She dragged his lips from her neck and brought them back to her lips. They kissed for a few moments before they broke apart and rested their foreheads together. 

“I'm sure you will think of something.” Baelish stated in a breathless tone. “The castle will be awake soon Sweetling. We wouldn't want you to gain a reputation now would we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well now, I expect reviews for this chapter. If my father could see what I have written he might roll in his grave! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it!


	11. Chapter 11

Sansa stuck the needle into the tan muslin and drew the green thread through the other side. She continued to do this as she created the small green bird. At first she wasn't sure what she was creating but it slowly started to resemble a small mockingbird. She thought about stopping herself and starting over but something felt right about the bird. Part of her wanted the bird to be real in order to see it fly. It would be a beautiful sight. 

She glanced around the room and sighed in frustration. She was alone in Septa Mordane's chambers for a their lessons, something that was becoming a regular occurrence. However, Sansa seemed to be the only one who came today. It was no surprise that Arya decided to not make an appearance. Since the Septa spoke with Catelyn, Arya made it a point not to attend the lessons. Arya was most likely out in the Godswood somewhere having a fencing lesson away from Catelyn's prying eyes. However, Jeyne was no where to be found either. Sansa didn't know if she should be insulted or not. Ever since her sister had physically dragged Jeyne away from Theon, Jeyne had been far less kind toward Sansa. She guessed that their friendship had finally reached it's breaking point. Of course Sansa couldn't help but be relieved. Pretending to like someone was far more exhausting than she had realized.

Septa Mordane grumbled about attendance and stated that she was going to report Arya's absence to Lady Stark, again. No word of Jeyne missing graced the older women's lips. Sansa didn't know if this was because the Septa knew why Jeyne was not in attendance or if the women simply had some type of grudge against Arya. The Septa always seemed to dislike the young girl and Sansa could never figure out why. Although Arya needed to be careful for she was fencing on thin ice when it came to their mother. Catelyn knew that Arya was up to something and it wouldn't be long before she discover Needle and the fencing lessons. 

Sansa heard a small creek outside the door and she snapped her head up. She looked toward the wooden door that stood ajar and she saw Baelish standing just outside of it. He had that infamous smirk in place and he crooked his finger at her. He was telling her to come with him. Sansa looked over to Septa Mordane, who didn't even notice the man behind the door. When she looked back at the door, Baelish was gone.

She wanted nothing more than to follow him. Looking over at the Septa she realized that the life of a lady was suddenly very dull. It seemed to be a trend with her lately. Before, Sansa used to live for her life at Winterfell but now it seemed that everything was so repetitive and boring. Perhaps it was because Baelish gave her a taste of a life so much more exciting than the existence she had been living. While she enjoyed sewing and strolling through the glass gardens, she wanted more out of her life. She didn't want to simply become a lady of some grand house and to birth sons but instead she wanted more for herself. She wanted to make her life her own.

“Septa, I'm not feeling very well. I think I best take a rest in my chambers.” Sansa stated and she saw the Septa huff again. She understood that the women was irritated but was there any point the lessons if no one came to them anymore. Sansa was talented at sewing but she found no point in it anymore. How was sewing pretty little birds onto muslins going to help her run a great household? The life she had been taught to lead simply made no sense anymore.

“Yes. Go.” The Septa snapped and threw her muslin onto the wooden seat beside her. Sansa almost felt bad for lying but decided not to be. It took to much effort. She stood and went toward the door. Sansa stepped out into the corridor and she didn't see Baelish in sight. She walked down the corridor at a slow pace. Suddenly she felt a set of long fingers weave their way into her's. 

The feel of his hands linked with her's always made Sansa's heart flow in a rapid manner. Her memory flashed to the wicked things those hands have done to her. The last few nights, after everyone has gone to sleep, Sansa would sneak out of her chambers and down to the great keep. Each night she would allow him to assault her with his tongue and his hands. He never went beyond what she was willing to do and he would stop the moment she commanded it. 

“Come with me.” Baelish stated with a hush and he pulled her further down the corridor. He dragged her toward a set of stairs that where reserved for the servants. Catelyn told her once that the mark of a good servant was that they were not seen in the household unless they were called for. In order to achieve such a goal, separate stair cases and entrances were built long ago. They reached the bottom landing and suddenly Baelish pulled her into a dark corner. 

Two guards passed and Baelish made sure that they were gone before he continued to pull Sansa down the corridor. He seemed to be in a rush because it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep up with him. They didn't speak but Sansa was focused on her keeping her feet moving fast enough. Eventually they reached the level of the castle that rested just above the unused dungeons. He pulled her further into the darkened corridor and Sansa realized that they were headed toward the apothecary. 

Once they reached their destination, he pulled her into a small opening. The door to the apothecary was opened only slightly but it was enough to allow Sansa to see inside. The apothecary's walls where lined with jars, herbs and books that Maester Luwin used for remedies to varies aliments. However, it wasn't what was on the walls that Sansa focused on. Instead in the center of the apothecary was an old wooden table and it appeared that a half dressed Jeyne was writhing on it. 

Jeyne's skirts were bunched up at her waist and her breasts were hanging out. Her brown hair was spread across the table and her one hand was clutching the wood while her other was weaved through dirty blonde hair that was stationed between her legs. The noises that Jeyne made caused Sansa to blush. Suddenly Theon pulled himself out from between her legs and leaned up to kiss Jeyne. Sansa moved to look away but Baelish wouldn't let her.

“Look at them.” He whispered, making sure not to alert the lovers. Sansa watched as Jeyne sat up to fuss with Theon's breeches and when she saw them drop, Jeyne laid back down on the table again. Theon aligned himself with Jeyne's entrance and when he entered her, Sansa saw the girl arch of the table with a load moan. She noticed how Theon's hips pounded furiously against her as he leaned up to take one of her breast in his mouth. She felt Baelish's hands wrap around her and she pressed against him. Baelish's hand went to her clothed breast and began to play with her. His other hand traveled down to cup her through her dress. It took everything Sansa had to hold back a moan. “Look how she writhers against him. How she enjoys it. When I have you, the pleasure I give you will not allow you to withhold your moans as you are doing so right now. See how she bites her lip? That is so she stays quiet, and not to attract unwanted attention.”

Baelish pulled her from the door and away from the scene they had witnessed. He dragged her farther away and Sansa's mind raced. Suddenly she couldn't take anymore. She grabbed Baelish by the front of his fine coat and slammed him up against the stone wall. She latched her lips to his and kissed him furiously. She molded her body to his and Baelish placed his hands on her hips, trusting his hips toward her. They kissed passionately for several moments but when Sansa moved her hands to undress him, Baelish stopped her.

“Not here. Not now. Later.” His voice was thick with desire and Sansa knew it was well balanced self-control that allowed him to stop her. He tightened his grip on her hips and flipped them. Suddenly Sansa felt herself be shoved up against the wall. Baelish removed his hands and leaned away from her. He placed his now free hands on each side of her face, his palms touching the stone wall. “Think of what you just saw. Of who you just saw. The leverage is in your hands. Time is of the essence Sweetling. Think fast.” With that he kissed her one last time. It was gentle and sweet. He pushed off the wall and walked away from her.

Sansa was left against the wall feeling pent up and frustrated. Once her breathing calmed and her heart returned to a normal pace, her mind began to work. She just witnessed Theon having relations with Jeyne. After she specifically told him to keep his hands off of her. However, she wasn't surprised that he defied her orders but what did surprise her was Jeyne's reaction. The way she withered and arched against him were the actions of someone who long ago gave up her maidenhead. It seemed that Jeyne had been keeping secrets. She was sure that Theon was the only man Jeyne had been with however, whether their relations started before or after Sansa threatened Theon, she wasn't sure. Either way, Sansa knew that this was not the first time they had been together. 

She pushed off the wall when an idea came to her. She didn't feel the slightest bit guilty for what she was about to do. Theon defied her, something she wasn't going to tolerate and Jeyne was keeping secrets from her. This was her one opportunity to make both of them disappear. She had to act quickly because she knew that they wouldn't be in the apothecary all day. She wasn't exactly sure how long these types of relations lasted so the sooner she found who she was looking for, the better.

She searched the closets parts of the castle and when Sansa reached the great hall, she looked around to see Baelish sitting there with Ned, as though he didn't just have his daughter shoved up against a wall. She briefly wonder what would happen if her father learned of the things she allowed Baelish to do with her body. She shuddered, not allowing herself to imagine such a thing. 

She pulled her eyes away from them and saw Maester Luwin sitting with her younger brother Rickon. It appeared that they were working on his lessons, just has he had done with Bran when he was alive. Sansa smiled lightly and walked over to them. She was sure to cool her features and make it appear as though she was feeling ill. She knew she had to be flushed from the recent events, something she hoped would work in her favor. 

“Maester Luwin? Would I would be able to speak to you for a moment?” Sansa asked, putting a slight wince on her face. She strategically placed her hand on her lower abdomen. Luwin looked at her with concern. He turned to Rickon and told him to continue working on his lessons. Luwin stood and led her out of the great hall. Sansa glanced toward Ned and Baelish. The latter throwing her a sly smile. 

“Is everything alright my lady?” Luwin asked with concern. For a brief second, Sansa felt guilty for what she was about to do. Not because of Theon and Jeyne but because of her respect for Luwin. He had always been so kind to her and when Arya had discovered her in the Godswood, he always kept his silence of what he knew. She knew he kept moon tea in his apothecary under lock and key, incase Theon would ever get one of the servant girls with child. However after her attack, Arya said it was extremely easy to get to when she snuck into the apothecary. It was simply left out on the table, waiting to be taken. After that, the moon tea went back to its proper place. It was as though he knew she needed it but would never give it to her directly. 

“Yes.” She paused and looked down at her shoes. “This is slightly embarrassing but I was wondering if you had any of those herbs you give Arya when her monthly pains plague her? I was hoping-”

“Say no more child. Come with me.” Luwin gave her a fatherly smile and led her down the hall. She gave him a small smile, hoping she looked embarrassed. She didn't say a word as they walked down the corridor. Once they reached they reached the entryway outside of the apothecary, Sansa noticed that the door was in the exact same position as it was when she and Baelish left. It took everything she had to suppress a smile. Without a second thought, Luwin pushed the door open and halted to a stop. The sudden stop almost made Sansa run into him. Luwin held out his arm, blocking her from entering. 

While they had moved away from the table, Theon and Jeyne were still in the apothecary and in a compromising position. The skirts that had been bunched around her waist, now hung around Jeyne's ankles. However, her chest was completely bare as she pressed herself against Theon's naked chest. Theon himself was completely naked. 

“In the name of the old gods, what are you doing?!” Luwin bellowed causing Jeyne to jump away from Theon. Jeyne quickly took her hands and covered herself while Theon simply stood there, proud as the day he was born. Sansa made sure to craft a completely shocked face with wide eyes and a slacked jaw. In order to keep up with appearances, Sansa made sure to look away from Theon's figure. “My lady please excuse yourself and ask you father to come here immediately.”

Sansa nodded and backed out of the room slowly. She made eye contact with Theon and couldn't help herself. She threw him a small satisfied smirk. She could tell that he was furious with her. He had thought she would never betray Jeyne and that he would get away with defiling her young friend. However, Sansa had no problem throwing Jeyne to the wolves and that was something Theon didn't anticipate. 

Sansa made quick motion of making her way down the corridor and back to the great hall. The entire way, she had to fight a bubble of excitement and she had to suppress a giggle that threatened to break through. The adrenaline of what she had just done was intoxicating and she wanted more. This game was dangerous and she couldn't help but desire more of it. This was far better then being a proper lady who wasted her days with sewing and strolls in the garden. 

Once she reached the great hall, Sansa calmed herself and crafted a frenzied and shocked look upon her person. She rushed into the hall and ran over to the table that Ned and Baelish sat at. She stood there and made a show of catching her breath. Ned looked shocked and worried about his daughter while Baelish leaned back, simply enjoying the show. 

“Sansa is everything alright?” Ned asked as he stood with a extremely concerned look upon his face. He placed a hand on the sides of her arms in order to calm her. Sansa placed her hand on top of his and grasped it tightly. She needed to make it seem as thought she needed that comfort of a father's embrace. If it seemed that she was disturbed by what she had seen then the far angrier her father would be. 

“Maester Luwin needs you in the apothecary. There is an emergency. I can't explain it. I don't-” Sansa rambled on and didn't meet her father's eyes. Ned leaned in and kissed the top of her head with affection and pulled away. 

“It's alright. Stay here.” With that he headed out of the great hall and Sansa felt herself relax. A small smirk replaced her shocked expression and her eyes latched with Baelish's. He seemed extremely pleased as he raised he clapped his hands lightly, applauding her.

“Bravo. I almost believed you for a moment. You would make a marvelous actress.” Baelish smirked at her and took a drink of his goblet. He leaned leisurely back in his chair and crossed his legs. Sansa walked around the table and sat down in a chair beside him. “Now we just wait for the fallout. I'm assuming the Lord of Winterfell will be less than pleased to learn that his ward has been taking samples from inside the castle.” 

“My father has strictly forbidden it. Although it is no secret that Theon has bedded some of the servant girls. Arya caught him once. However, bedding a servant girl and bedding the daughter of my father's favorite steward are two very different things.” Sansa stated with a satisfied smirk on her face. She glanced over to the other side of the room and saw Rickon studiously reading the book Luwin left him with. 

“It's surprises me that little bastard versions of Theon are not running around.” Baelish stated, looking at Rickon. While they spoke in low tones and the young boy would not be able to hear him, he would have seen them talking. It was something that couldn't be avoided.

“Maester Luwin had taken care of that.” 

“Wise man.” Baelish stated. “How do you feel about this? Your friend is ruined. If you decided to do nothing, this could have stayed a secret. She could have gone to Maester Luwin if she ever got with child. No one would ever have to know.” 

“No. If Jeyne carried Theon's child she would have been far to overjoyed to end the pregnancy. She would have ruined herself because she thought that Theon would marry her. I was just quickening the inevitable.” Sansa stated and she truly believed what she said. “If she would have come to Theon with the news of a child, he would have thrown her aside.” 

“Like you said, bedding the daughter of your father's favorite steward is something you just don't do. Almost like bedding his daughter.” Baelish smirked. Sansa returned his leer with a matching smile. She shifted in her seat, angling herself in a way that brought her close to him but was not touching him. While she has not taken Baelish to bed, she knew it was only a matter of time. The idea of relations between a man and women still frightened her but the feel of his hands on the nub between her legs was enough for her to forgo that fear when it came to him. The images of Theon's naked image, while she found it nauseating, made Sansa wonder if she would wither for Baelish the way Jayne withered for her lover. 

“Is this what you do with your time Lord Baelish?” Sansa whispered to him. She tilted herself lower, allowing the dress she was wearing to slid down and expose the tip of her cleavage. His eyes trailed over her and rested on her chest. “You set up people's lives in such a way that you can knock them down?”

“It's the game.” He leaned in to whisper in her ear. “And I find that people set their own course and I just alter them. You're a natural at it, it would be a shame for your talents to be wasted up here in the North. I can teach you everything I know. I can show you the game, teach you to move and to manipulate. With my wits and Cat's beauty, the world will be yours Sweetling.” 

She wanted nothing more than what he was offering. The life she was given, the life of a small protected wolf caused her nothing more than pain and heartache. She had been sheltered and taught false ideals that when everything she thought was true suddenly shattered, it ripped the heart out of her. Sansa turned from porcelain, to ivory and eventually to steel. 

“Teach me.” Sansa whispered and she saw Baelish smile. It was that smile that he gave her when he was pleased with her. Sansa leaned back into her chair, straightening herself into the proper lady-like appearance. Her eyes flickered over to Rickon again and he still seemed engrossed in his book. She smirked at that. Suddenly there was a commotion going on just outside the great hall. Baelish stood and held out his hand. 

“Then the first lesson starts now. Time to see the fall out of your little plan.” Sansa took his hand and stood. He led her out into the corridor where she saw her father yelling and causing a scene. Theon was staring back at him with pure fury. It was that same look that Theon had given her the day she told him to stay away. Jeyne, who was fully clothed now, was sobbing hysterically in Maester Luwin's arms. 

“You're not my father.” Theon stated. His teeth where clenched together. Sansa turned when she felt small hands wrap around her. She looked down and Rickon clung to her side, terrified. Sansa placed her arms around him in comfort. She glanced over and noticed that Catelyn, Robb and Arya, who was dressed in boys clothes, had joined them in the corridor. 

“No I'm not but I am your Master.” Ned said with such outrage that Sana had never seen before. Theon just looked at the Lord of Winterfell and then suddenly Theon spit in Ned's face. Any noise that was being made suddenly disappeared, even Jeyne's crying ceased. No one breathed. Ned took out a handkerchief and wiped the saliva off of his face. “You will marry Jeyne Poole. And then I banish you both to the Iron Islands and you are never to set foot in the North again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we have seen a darker side to Sansa in this chapter. I have what I call big plot chapters and this is one of them. This scene is Sansa's really big first move. Ending the engagement to Harrold Hardyng was the first move when it came to her own life but this is the first time she has set things in motion that directly affected someone else. She is soaking everything Petyr is trying to show her and my Sansa is far more darker and manipulative than book/show Sansa. 
> 
> I also think that while she is fond of Jeyne (or at least the friendship she used to have with her), if she had to completely throw her under the bus in order to get what she wanted, she wouldn't have a problem doing so. That and Jeyne would eventually fall with child (because we all know Theon is not a fan of the pull out method) and since she is blinded by love, she would carry that child to term. So, Sansa really was just speeding up the inevitable and making them suit her.


	12. Chapter 12

The dining hall was silent as the grave. No one uttered a word. The clanking of silver as they ate their supper and the pouring of wine by the servants was the only sounds to be heard. Every few seconds someone would glance at Theon, who was forced to attend evening meals from that point forward. The news about the confrontation between Ned and Theon was the talk of Winterfell. The servants whispered about the story as they always did when new gossip presented itself and the story changed depending on who was telling it. 

Some say that Theon forced himself upon Jeyne and the Lord of Winterfell was forcing the marriage in order to avoid having to send his ward to the wall as a rapist. Others claim that Jeyne seduced him in order to entrap him into a marriage. Some say she was already pregnant. Others say she was pregnant and the reason they were in the apothecary was because he was forcing her to drink moon tea in order to abort the child.

The one thing Sansa found most intriguing about the whole ordeal was that her name was not mentioned in any versions of the story. It was like she had never been there to witness anything. It was as though she had never entered that apothecary with Luwin at all. Sansa had no proof but she was willing to bet that Baelish had something to do with the missing part of the tale. She chanced a look over to him and she noticed that he was the only person who seemed comfortable at the table. In fact, it was almost as though he enjoyed the atmosphere around him, like he thrived of it.

Baelish glanced over to her and caught her eye. He raised his eyebrow at her in question and she simply threw a smirk back at him. She felt a kick of her shin and her eyes snapped to her sister who was sitting directly across from her. Arya's eyes flashed to the head of the table and Sansa saw Ned looking at her strangely. She caught his eye and gave him a confused smile. He returned her small gesture with that fatherly grin he reserved for his children. Ned leaned over and spoke with Baelish. Ned's eyes flickered toward Sansa as he spoke and Baelish whispered something back but she could not make out what was being said. Ned leaned back in his chair, seeming satisfied. 

Sansa glanced back at Arya, who seemed to be more relived than she was causing her to lean back in her chair in a very unladylike manner. Catelyn who saw such mannerisms snapped at her youngest daughter. Arya straightened herself with a highly annoyed look upon her face. Sansa looked at her sister in confusion and Arya just rolled her eyes. 

Needle. Arya mouthed to her and Sansa's eyes widened. 

She found it? Sansa mouthed back and Arya nodded. She saw Robb look between the two of them in shock and he simply shook his head. She felt sorry for him because she knew that if Catelyn discovered Arya's little secret they all were going to be in trouble for it. Robb had covered for Arya more times than Sansa had and she suddenly wondered how much trouble their father was in. He was the one who set up the lessons after all. If Catelyn was going to furious with any of them, then it should be all of them.

“Sansa. Arya. Enough.” Catelyn snapped and the two of the ceased their silent conversation. Ned shot his wife an apologetic smile but she was having none of it. While Sansa knew that her father dealt with a horrible blow to his ego, Catelyn was not going to let him off the hook easily. Ned Stark was having a very bad day. A snort sounded from the end of the table and the brief distraction from the days events had disappeared.

“Do you have something to say Theon?” Ned snapped at him. Theon who had been drinking out of his silver goblet all but slammed it down upon the table. The sound caused Sansa to jump and she saw the red wine that he had spilled trickle its way toward her. 

“Yes, in fact I do. When exactly will this farce of a wedding take place? When will you force me into more shackles and chains? Winterfell wasn't enough of a prison, was it? You have to bind me this way as well?” Theon's voice slurred and Sansa wondered how much wine he actually had. 

“Winterfell has never been your prison. It has been your home as much as it has been my children's.” Ned replied with matching fury. His voice was stone cold and Sansa knew it was best to stay silent. She chanced a glance at Baelish, who was wearing his infamous smirk. She was correct, he was enjoying this. This was the fallout he had told her about and he was thriving on it. Once Theon was no longer in Winterfell, Sansa felt that she would enjoy the outcome so much more. “And to answer your previous question, you will be married in a fortnight, once we return from Deepwood.” 

“Two weeks.” Theon spat, gulping down more wine. “Are we to be married in the Godswood as well? A good Northern wedding?” 

“You do not deserve the honor of being married in the Godswood.” It was no secret that the Godswood was a place that Ned held dear to his heart. Several times Catelyn had mentioned that the Godswood still made her feel like an outsider at Winterfell. It was a tradition that if there was a wedding held at Winterfell, it would take place in the Godswood. However, Ned couldn't stomach the thought of letting Theon have such a privilege. Not after he disrespected not only his Master, but the entire Stark family. “The wedding will be held in the Great Keep and the feast afterward will be in here.”

“And I get no say in this?” Theon asked. He seemed so despondent just then and Sansa could see the small boy she grew up with for a split second. The moment left as fast as it had come and the defiant, winter hating Theon put his mask back in place. “Figured as much.” 

“You lost that right when you took advantage of a young girl.” Ned stated. The venom in his voice made even Robb shrink in his chair. Ned always preached to respect those around them and never take advantage of another. A lesson Theon often disregarded. When she was younger Sansa lived by that rule except when it came to Arya. As children Arya and Sansa bickered over every little thing. Now Sansa found it highly ironic that it was the exact opposite. 

“Jeyne is no young girl. She enjoyed every second of it. Ask Sansa, she was there. She saw everything!” Theon leaned over the table and if there were not several people seated between them, she was certain that she would have been able to smell the wine on his breath.

“Enough!” Ned yelled, pounding his fists on the table as he stood. Theon ignored him. 

“She knew we were in there, I don't know how but she knew and she lured Maester Luwin to the apothecary in order to catch us. She orchestrated this entire thing days ago.” Theon looked at her with such hate, Sansa almost felt frightened. She glanced around the table and noticed how Baelish was eyeing the younger man with such violence that it made Sansa fill with calm. Baelish would never allow him to touch her. Some way, some how he would move winter itself in order to protect her. “Tell them Sansa, tell them how you threatened me?” 

“What is he talking about Sansa?” Catelyn asked her daughter. She looked concerned and confused. She believed that her daughter would never have purposely ruined someone she proclaimed to be a friend. Catelyn still saw that gentle nature Sansa always had in her. The mere thought of such a thing would never occur to her. 

“I don't know what he is talking about. I never threatened him.” Sansa stated and looked directly into Theon's eyes.

“Liar!” 

“It wasn't a threat Theon.” Sansa stated and looked between her parents. Both Ned and Catelyn were looking at her with such intensity that it almost made her squirm. “The day you returned from the Barrowlands, Arya and I had taken a stroll through the glass gardens. I saw Jeyne and Theon and Jeyne was making it fairly obvious what her intentions were...not in that manner but more over that she wanted to let him know that she was interested. I knew Theon would never marry her so I asked him to be kind and let her down gently.” Sansa looked back at Theon and she never broke eye contact. “I thought I was doing them both a kindness. Obviously I was mistaken.” 

“Why didn't you tell me this?” Ned asked with a soft voice. He wasn't disappointed, the Stark children always knew when their father was disappointed. He just seemed lost. Ned didn't realize that his daughter had more to play in this scandalous affair. With recent events, it was like he was seeing a side to Sansa that he didn't know existed. It was something in her that was made of stone. 

“I thought that was the end of it. I have not seen them together since and I thought Theon let her down gently. Jeyne has not been coming to lessons and I thought she was just heartbroken and that she would come around eventually when she felt better. It never occurred to me that it was the exact opposite.” She paused again and forced her eyes to begin to water. The tears began to flow and she felt Catelyn take her into her arms. “I didn't know they were in the apothecary. I swear it. I just wasn't feeling well and went to Maester Luwin, hoping to get some relief. When we entered and saw them together. I so shocked, I couldn't-”

“Shh Sansa, It's all right.” Catelyn stated and kissed the top of her head. She held her like she had when Sansa was a small child. She could still feel the tears on her face. She glanced up to see her father looking at her concerned and to see Baelish smirking. Baelish lifted his goblet to his lips as though he was toasting to her. It was an stunning performance. 

“Oh she has you all fooled.” Theon spat. 

“Enough!” Ned spat again. He snapped his fingers and two Winterfell guards suddenly stood by Theon's side. “You proclaim to be our prisoner than I will make you one. Take him to his chamber and makes sure he doesn't leave.” With that the two guards led a furious Theon out of the dining hall and Sansa suddenly felt exhausted. 

“Excuse me. I don't feel hungry anymore.” Sansa stated and took the cloth that had been resting in her lap and threw it on the table. Catelyn stated that she would be up to check on her later. Sansa nodded and made brief eye contact with Baelish. Meeting him would wait until after Catelyn was pacified. Sansa didn't want to meet Theon on her way back to her chamber so she exited the dining hall by using the servant's entrance. She didn't make it far before she heard her father's voice call after her.

“Sansa.” She looked at her father. He looked as he always did; rugged and solemn. Her father had never been a joyous man and Sansa always wondered why. He had everything any man would want. He was the lord of a great house, a beautiful wife and to the best of his knowledge, dutiful children. Yet he never seemed truly happy. Catelyn always said that the stress of his position took it's toll and that he seemed like never wanted it in the first place. Ned wasn't meant to inherit his position, Brandon Stark was meant to be Lord of Winterfell and if he hadn't gone to an early grave, Sansa would have a different father. “Are you alright?” 

“Yes. It's just been a very long day.” She wasn't lying. The events of the day made it feel as though time moved at a slower pace. The evening meal in its self felt like an eternity. She wanted nothing more than the castle to go to sleep so she could leave her chamber and find herself in Baelish's arms again. The feel of his hands on her sent shivers down her spine. 

“I know you're still reeling from today and I just want to make sure that you're not upset.” Ned asked and Sansa looked down at her feet. She was not exactly sure how she wanted to answer such a question. Was she upset about the day's events? No. If anything she felt extremely giddy at the prospect of Theon leaving Winterfell and she knew she wasn't the only one. She felt a slight twinge of guilt at the thought of Jeyne being banished as well but she was more than willing to accept the poor girl's fate if it removed Theon from Winterfell. 

“I'm fine. Really. I am little shocked but I'm not naive and I know what occurs behind closed doors.” Ned was taken aback slightly and Sansa gave him a small smile. “Mother had a conversation with Arya and I when Arya caught Theon with that servant girl a few years ago.” A very vague conversation but a conversation none the less.

“I should have taken action then.” Ned muttered in spite. Sansa agreed with him but held her tongue. Angering her father was not something she wanted to do at that exact moment. However she did think it was foolish to allow Theon the liberties he had taken. She knew that Ned didn't turn a blind eye completely, he did attempt to help him battle his issues but he could only help Theon if Theon wanted to help himself. “Are you sure that you are okay?”

“Yes. I'm more upset that Jeyne lied to me. I thought I was being a good friend but I guess I was wrong. I wish she would have just told me.” Sansa linked her hands together and attempted to look meek. She was hoping to convey bashfulness and sadness but also wanted to avoid looking him in the eyes. If she did, she might lose her nerve and she couldn't afford to do that. While she had been lying to him for years, he was still her father and she loved him. 

“It's not your fault.” Ned stated as he reached out and placed his hands on her shoulder. He gave her a tight fatherly squeeze and it made Sansa smile. She stepped closer to him and kissed his cheek. She whispered him a goodnight and made a move to leave but Ned stopped her. “There is one other thing I wanted to ask you about.” 

“What is it?” Sansa grew concerned. She didn't like how he was looking at her, as though he was searching for something. She was sure that whatever he would find, she wouldn't like the outcome.

“Rickon mentioned that he saw you speaking with Lord Baelish. Your brother mentioned that he touched your hand.” Ned stated in a low and calm voice but his eyes told a different story. He was worried and Sansa felt panic rise up in her. She could not afford for Ned to learn of Baelish and her's liaison. “Did he try anything improper?”

“What? No. Of course not.” She wasn't lying. In that particular moment Baelish acted in the most gentlemanly manner possible. If anything it was her who was acting improper. If Rickon had been in any other position in the dining hall he would have seen a completely different side to that conversation. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Of course. Lord Baelish has been nothing but kind to me. I was upset and he was trying to give me comfort.” Sansa looked at her father and she could see that he believed her. She felt brave then and wanted to see how far she could push this. “He has been very kind to me and seems very fond of me. Of all of us really.” While he certainly was fond of her, she couldn't exactly be certain if Baelish felt the same for any of the other Stark family members.

“How much time have you spent with him?” Ned asked in a hushed tone and Sansa could tell that Baelish was the last man in Westeros that he wanted spending time with his daughter. That wouldn't do in Sansa's mind and she would have to change his. It would be difficult but she was sure over time and with the help of Baelish, Ned would soon begin to trust him.

“Not much but we've spoken. He told me stories of his childhood. He spoke of mother and their time at Riverrun.” Sansa had to withhold a smirked when he saw Ned's chocolate eyes focus on her more intently. The creases in his features lessoned slightly but it wasn't out of relaxation. It was exactly what Sansa suspected because she had been worried about it in the beginning. Ned still thought Baelish loved Catelyn but Sansa knew that wasn't the case anymore. His love for Catelyn was nothing more than a mere memory.

“What did he say?”

“Just that he missed the Riverlands and he regretted his foolishness with Uncle Brandon. He told me of the silly crush he had on mother.” She knew it went well beyond a crush. Catelyn had been his first love much like Joffery had been her's. Both of them regretted their firsts in many ways but it shaped them into the people they had become. Even with everything she was forced to endure, Sansa couldn't regret the person she was becoming. She rather liked her. Sansa placed a small smile on her lips, hoping Ned would see what she wanted him to see.

“He isn't a good man Sansa.” He placed his hands back on her shoulder and squeezed again. She showed him a young girl with a crush on an older man. It was every father's worst nightmare. She was unclear on how this attraction she had with Baelish would end but she knew that she wouldn't always be in Winterfell; with or without Baelish. “I will find you a husband who deserves you.” 

“Like Harrold Hardyng?” She couldn't stop the words flowing from her lips and the shocked look upon her Ned's face was well worth it. It was clear that he thought she was in the dark when it came to the hopes of matching her with the young Harry. Ned's shoulder's slumped and he dropped his hands to his side.

“How did you know about Lord Hardyng?”

“Lord Baelish informed me that you had sent a letter to Lord Royce in hopes of a possible marriage. He also informed me about Lord Hardyng's engagement to Myranda Waynwood.” A half truth. It took every piece of strength Sansa had to keep a smug look from forming on her features when Ned let out a huff of frustration. “He is Lord Protector of the Vale. He knows what happens in the Vale just like you know the comings and goings of the North.” 

“You would have liked him, Lord Hardyng I mean.”

“I'm sure I would have. I would have liked his bastard daughters even more.” She could see that Ned was startled. He was unaware that Lord Hardyng was a father to several bastard children. “When Lord Baelish told me about you wanting to marry me to Lord Hardyng, I asked him what he was like. I knew nothing of this man you were planning on handing me over to and Lord Baelish was very honest. Something I am thankful for. I wouldn't have been happy to learn that the man I married was no better than Theon.” 

“We wouldn't have married you to him if you didn't want it.” Ned stated hopelessly. He could tell that his daughter was hurt by his actions and Sansa wasn't even putting on a show at this point. It wasn't until that exact moment that she realized how angry she was at her parents for keeping her out of this decision. The burn of disappointment scorched through her like a fire. 

“Really? Because if Lord Hardyng wasn't already engaged I would be on my way to the Eryrie right now.” Sansa realized that tears were flowing down her cheeks. “I know you are getting desperate and in order for you to attempt to regain any type of financial security for the North you need me to make a good match but I would like to have a say in it. I have to live with the choice for the rest of my life.” 

“Lord Baelish wouldn't make a good husband Sansa.” Ned stated with formality. He could tell that his daughter was developing a fondness for the Master of Coin and he didn't feel comfortable with it. He had thought that perhaps Baelish had made some inappropriate remarks or gestures toward her but he never imagined Sansa would have returned feelings for the man. 

“I'm not saying that I want to marry him or anyone really. All I want is a choice. I don't want to be forced into a marriage that will only bring me misery. If I end up miserable, then I want it to be of my own making, not someone else's.” With that, Sansa turned and made her way down the corridor, letting the tears flow as she walked.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really just want to thank you guys! This story has gotten more support than I was expecting! So I want to say thank you, and.....
> 
> You're Welcome.

It wasn't long before Catelyn came to see her eldest her daughter. They sat together on the fur covered bed and conversed about what Sansa had seen in the apothecary that day. While Sansa remained guarded in her responses, not wanting to let on that she had more of a hand in Theon and Jeyne's discovery, she rather enjoyed her mother's attentions. When she was younger and before Bran's death, she had been rather close with her mother. They used to be so similar and both found the world to be so beautiful. Yet, everything changed when Bran fell from that broken tower. 

Losing a child changed Catelyn, it hardened her. She became far more protective than she had been before, holding her children close but pushing them away all the same. Sansa remembered what is was like when her mother would come to tuck her in at night. She would take the brush and run it through her red hair all the while telling her stories of when she was a little girl. They would giggle when Catelyn would tell her the story of how she fell in love with her husband. Seeing him for the first time as she walked down the aisle and getting to know if as her first born grew within her. It was all so romantic to Sansa and she felt as though her mother's life was just like a fairytale. She wanted the world to be the same for her. She wanted her life to be a song.

Then Bran fell and her mindset changed. Catelyn grew distance and while over time, she went back to nurturing her remaining children, she just was not the same. When Sansa had her accident, she remembered how Catelyn sat beside her bed day and night. Sansa almost confessed everything when the King's party had left for the final time. She held her tongue when Prince Joffery still strutted around Winterfell as she laid in her room healing. However, the moment he was headed back to King's Landing, Sansa almost confessed that Wildings had nothing to do with why she nearly died. Then she remembered her mother's cries as her son was murdered by the Lannisters. Sansa couldn't condemn her mother to that misery twice. 

So Sansa buried her secret deep within herself, begging Arya to keep her silence. When she learned that Arya had written to Jon at the Wall and told him about the truth behind her attack, Sansa was furious. It was the worst but last argument the sisters ever really shared. When Jon wrote to Sansa and provided her with a small gift in the form of a dagger, it was the first time she allowed herself to shed a single tear over what had happened. The emotions she buried so deep rose to the surface for the very first time.

Yet, when Catelyn came to Sansa's chambers and began to comb through her hair like she had done all those years ago, it almost made Sansa forget about everything had happened. They chatted about everything and giggled like young school children telling secrets. It wasn't until Catelyn started to braid her daughter's hair that the topic of Theon was broached. 

Catelyn was worried the effect of what Sansa had seen would have on her. She still believed that her daughter was still innocent and untouched. She had spoken to both of her daughters about what happened in the marriage bed but having seen it first hand was something completely different. Of course the knowledge that Baelish had been there when Sansa first discovered the couple was completely foreign. She had no idea that Sansa was far from innocent. 

“Do you have any questions?” Catelyn asked with a gentle tone. “Is there anything you might be curious about?” 

“I'm just questioning Jeyne's judgment. How could she possibly allow Theon to do such things to her?” She wasn't lying because she truly didn't understand what the young girl was thinking. While she knew she would take Baelish to her bed long before she was married, she had no illusions on who he was. She knew exactly what she was getting into but she couldn't understand how Jeyne thought Theon was the knight she always dreamed of. Theon held no secrets and he was exactly the man that he portrayed himself to be. 

“She is in love and people do foolish things when they are in love.” Catelyn smiled at her. Sansa stayed silent for a moment. Once upon a time, Sansa believed herself to be in love with Joffery but even before she realized his true character, she never would have allowed him to have his way with her in such a manner. Now there was a man who made her feel such desire that she never thought was possible. It wasn't just the physical attraction but what he could teach her that also drew her to him; but did she love him? Sansa wasn't sure if she capable of loving anyone anymore. 

“Does it hurt?” While she enjoyed the attentions Baelish gave her, she couldn't help but be frightened by allowing him to be fully inside of her. Part of her wanted to let him have full liberties over her person while the other part clenched at the mere thought of it. But seeing Jeyne gain so much pleasure from the act made the fearful part of her grow smaller and smaller. 

“The first time will hurt but over time, if your husband knows what he is doing then it will be one of the most pleasurable experiences of your life. It will create a bond between you and your husband.” Catelyn finished the braid and turned to face her daughter. She smiled gently and took her hands into her own. “But you must not make the same mistake as Jeyne. Never allow a man into your bed before your wedding night.” She leaned up and kissed the top of her head. Catelyn's hair touched the side of her face and inhaled the soft scent of dew. “I'm going to sleep. If you have anymore questions I am always here to answer them.” 

Catelyn left her daughter and showed herself out of Sansa's chambers. Sansa laid against the brown furs, not even bothering to undress herself. She leaned over and glanced outside her chamber window. It was dark but not time for her to sneak out and meet Baelish. She closed her eyes and allowed time to race past her as she reflected back on her mother's words. They rang in her ears and she kept running over and over in her mind.

Never allow a man into your bed before your wedding night. She found it odd that her mother never mentioned Lord Baelish. It was as though she no notion of their affection and it appeared that Arya's secret wasn't the only one he kept.

A light knock on her door made Sansa startle. She pulled herself from her bed and went to the door. She walked quietly to the door and pressed her ear against it. It was quiet and Sansa thought for a brief second that whoever knocked had left. 

“Open the door Sweetling.” Baelish's smooth voice sounded through the wood and it caused Sansa's heart to race. She bit her lip in anticipation and opened the door to reveal Baelish in all his glory. He was still dressed as he had been during the evening meal. His long coat that covered his breeches was a very dark green and it made the silver mockingbird pin gleam. She stood aside and allowed him to enter her chamber. She poked her head into the corridor. When she was satisfied that no one had seen him enter, she shut the door and reached to the lock at the top, bolting it shut. 

“What are you doing here!? Did anyone see you?” Sansa whispered. The last thing she needed was a guard seeing Baelish enter her chambers and informing her father. After seeing his reaction to Theon bedding Jeyne, she couldn't imagine the fury if he caught a grown man doing the same to his daughter. Baelish just smirked at her.

“The guards are far more concerned with making sure Theon stays in his chambers. I could have walked from my chambers to your's with not a stitch of clothing on my person and no one would have been the wiser.” He stepped closer to her and ran his fingers over her braided hair. She felt his fingers graced her skin lightly and her mother's words disappeared from her thoughts.

“My father is getting suspicious of you. He warned me that you're not a good man.” This caused Baelish to give a low and dark chuckle. Sansa felt heat rush to her loins and she wanted to feel his lips on her. However he pulled his hand away and moved toward the vanity. 

“He was right. I'm not a good man.” With that she watched as he pulled the mockingbird pin from his coat. He placed it down on her vanity and slowly began to unbutton his coat. Once it was undone he shrugged it off and laid it down on the wooden chair. He kicked off his boots, one by one and then slipped off the wool stockings that kept his feet warm. Sansa watched his bare feet flex and rest on the wooden floor. He walked toward her and she could feel the room grow increasingly warmer. 

“Then it is fitting that I'm not a good girl.” Sansa smirked at him and that caused him to chuckle again. He reached out to her and placed his hands on her hips. He spun her around and pressed her back against his chest. He kissed the spot just behind her ear as he began to slowly untie the front of her dress. 

“But you are a good girl.” Baelish whispered to her. “You're my good girl. And I am very proud of you. The outcome of your little scheme was far more successful than even I anticipated.” The ties were completely undone and the purple dress opened. He let it hang open, showing her corset and chase but he didn't push the dress off of her shoulders. He reached inside and grasped her breast through the fabric of her corset. “A good girl deserves a reward.” 

Baelish swung her back around and latched his lips with her's. Sansa pushed herself against his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck. She weaved her hand through his black hair and dug her nails into his scalp. Baelish hissed against her lips. His arms went underneath the dress and he wrapped his arms around the lower part of her body. His hand trailed down to her bottom, wrapped around her and he hoisted her up off the floor. 

Sansa squealed in surprise as she felt herself be lifted off of the floor. He walked over to the bed and lightly tossed her on it. She propped herself up on her elbows and she watched as Baelish slowly strip himself of his tunic. She couldn't help but blush as he stood in front of her in nothing more than his breeches. He gave her a leering smirk when he saw her bit her lip and her eyes trail over him. It's not the first time she saw his chest unclothed, she still found it tantalizing. Baelish crawled onto the bed and over top of her. He leaned down and kissed her gently. He moved his lips from hers to kiss the corner of her mouth and began to slowly tail kisses down her jawline and he placed a final kiss on the small of her ear again. 

“Lie back.” He whispered and she felt his hot breath grace the side of her ear. Sansa followed her orders and laid herself down against the furs. She felt the lump of her braid under her head and the chill of the cold air around her. “ I won't hurt you, Sweetling. I promise.” Unable to speak, Sansa just nodded her head. He bent down to kiss her again and Sansa felt the whole weight of his body against her's. She tensed lightly but when she felt his lips slowly move down the side of her neck, she began to relax and couldn't help but focus on his kisses. 

Ever so slowly he kissed down her chest and she felt his tongue poke out when he reached her cleavage. For a moment she thought he would have pulled at her corset but he left it completely intact. Baelish lifted himself up and moved to make his way off of the bed. Sansa wore a confused look upon her face but when he slowly trailed his fingers over her clothed torso. When he reached the end of the corset, she felt his hands dig into her hips and he pulled her across the fur blanket so her legs were hanging off the side of the bed. The sudden action caused her to giggle. She propped her self up again, which Baelish quickly pushed her lightly back down so she was flat on her back once more. 

Slowly he took each of her boots off and tossed them down with a soft clunk. He took his hands and ran them up her leg and an extremely slow manner. When he reached the top of her stockings he curled his fingers inside of the cloth and pulled them down, tossing them aside. He then moved to do the same to the other leg but stopped when he felt something odd. Sansa felt her heart race when she felt him unhook the holster. He held a small dagger in his hand and he noticed a small direwolf engraved upon the handle. 

“And what is this?” Baelish asked and Sansa noticed his voice held a huskier tone than normal. He placed the dagger on the wooden trunk that stood at the foot of her bed. He returned to her leg and pulled off the remaining stocking.

“A gift.” He took her foot and placed a kiss on the top of it. He trailed his fingers up the side of her calf, allowing his lips to follow. Sansa hissed at the feel of his lips against her cool skin.

“From who?” 

“Jon.” She whimpered as he suckled at her thigh. He was so close to the point she needed him to be but yet so far away. The ache she felt between her legs yearned to be soothed. Baelish pulled himself upward, trailing his fingertips along her thigh. He placed his knee between her legs and with his fingers he touched the small pearl that was nestled between her lips. Sansa arched and whimpered at the contact. 

“Good.” He twirled the pearl and Sansa cried out. Baelish leaned up, took her lips and kissed her hard. “Always keep it on you.” Twirl. “Never leave without it.” Twirl. “Use it. Don't hesitate.” Twirl. “The right blow, right here.” He kissed the hollow of her neck. “Will kill a man.” His finger moved faster against her and Sansa rotated her hips, hoping to cause more friction. “Trust me.” With that, Baelish moved southward and before Sansa could comprehend what happened, his finger was replaced with his tongue. 

“What are you-ugh” Sansa's hands reached down and weaved her fingers through his dark hair. She started to arch her hips against causing him to grasps her hips in order to hold her still. The moans that escaped her lips only encouraged him. She had to bit down on her lips to keep herself from growing any louder. They couldn't afford for a guard to break down the door and catch them in such a compromising position. It wasn't long before her toes curled and her back arched in sweet agony. “Petyr” Before she could fully come down from her high, Baelish crawled up her body and kissed her again. Sansa could taste a sweet tang upon his lips, mixing with his usual mint and it took a moment to realize that it was her, she was tasting upon his lips. He grasped her hips tightly and flipped them over. 

Sansa found herself on top of him, straddling his legs. Baelish pushed the purple dress that still hung out off of her shoulders. Her braid was completely disheveled and he noticed that she looked frightened. He sat up causing her to slide closer to him. She moaned when her core graced his clothed bulge but the fear still caused her to tense at the thought of that part of him being so close to her. He placed his hands on the side of her face, tracing his thumb across her cheekbone as his eyes made contact with her's.

“You're in control. You take the lead.” Sansa nodded and reached down, attempting to unlace his breeches. However, his hands moved from from her face and grabbed her hand. “Not yet. Not tonight. Just like this.” She smiled in relief. She would have gladly given herself over to him completely but it gave her comfort not to do so. She wasn't completely ready yet. 

Baelish placed his hands on her hips and she placed her's on top of his. Slowly he began to rotate her hips in a circular motion. She felt the cloth of his member grow closer and closer to her. He grunted and placed his face in the hollow of her neck. He traced her pulse with his tongue as her hips began to pick up speed. She moved faster and faster against him, searching for that bliss again. Soon enough she was soaring. He removed his lips from her neck in order to kiss her lips. 

“Sansa.” He whispered against her lips and Sansa saw his face constrict. His jaw went slack and his eyes closed. They stilled and Baelish simply held her close for a moment. Once their breathing had been restored to normal, Sansa lifted herself off of him and practically fell against the pillows. Baelish laid down beside her and linked her hand with his. They did not touch except for their linked hands. He lifted her hand and kissed it gently. “I will miss you while we're gone.” 

“Where are you going?” Sansa asked. With the excitement of the day and the pleasure she endured, she nearly forgotten about the knowledge of Baelish leaving with her father. While she was disappointed that he would be leaving in the morning, she couldn't help but feel her eyes begin to droop. She realized how completely exhausted she was.

“Deepwood.” He stated. He moved so he was lying on his side. He propped himself up on his elbow and reached down to take her face in his hand. He lowered his head and kissed her deeply. When they broke apart, he rested his forehead against her's. “We won't be gone long. A week at most. Your father is eager to return, what with the wedding and all.” 

“Theon-”

“Will be riding with us. Ned wants to keep him close. You will be safe here in Winterfell. I can promise you that.” She smiled lazily at him and closed her eyes. She felt Baelish kiss each of her eyelids before he kissed her forehead. “Sleep. I will see you when I return.” She hardly felt the crease of the bed as he left it. 

When Sansa awoke the next morning, she noticed that she was completely covered by the furs that laid on her bed. She reached down and felt that her corset had been removed. She had slept in only the chaise she wore underneath it. Sansa felt grateful that he had taken it off, even if she wasn't awake to enjoy it. She glanced around the room and her clothes that had been thrown about the floor the night before had been neatly folded on the wooden chair by her vanity. 

She pulled herself from her bed and went over to the vanity. She sat down on the wooden chair and pulled the dress that was neatly folded into her lap. She brought the dress to her nose and inhaled. His scent still lingered on the fabric. The memories of his lips on her body flew back to her and it caused her to smile. The week would be long but she knew that his return would be well worth the wait. She stood and walked over to the trunk, with the dress in her hand. She opened the trunk and placed it into the trunk. 

Sansa walked back over to the vanity while she started to unbraid her messy hair. She was about to call for a serving maid when she saw her neck in the mirror. She clasped her hand over the lower part of her neck and her ice blue eyes grew wide. She removed her hand and saw a purplish bruise was placed just at the point that her neck met her shoulder. She knew exactly how such a mark made it upon her person but she was completely unaware that such a thing could be possible. Sansa huffed in frustration, wondering how she was going to cover up such a mark. A very modest dress she supposed. 

She pushed away from the vanity and walked over to her bed to grab her candle. While the sun had risen slightly, her room still held a darkness to it. When she reached the bedside table, Sansa paused. Beside the candle laid her direwolf engraved dagger with a silver pin in the shape of a mockingbird propped up against it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so maybe I should change the rating to E? Maybe? What do you think?


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it has been a rather crappy day outside. All rainy and gross. So in-between naps, I worked on this. I hope you enjoyed it.

The Weirwood stood tall and the red leave blew it the light breeze. The breeze caused the weather to seem colder than it was. Snow could be seen blowing lightly across the grounds. If it wasn't for the sun showing it's light through the clouds then the day would have been bitterly cold. Yet, the moment the rays would hit Sansa's pale skin it would make the time spent outside worth the chill.

She breathed in deeply, allowing the frozen air enter her lungs causing a beautiful pain in her lungs. She rested her head against the bark of the tree. The weather, while it took a wintry turn, was still lovely for someone who was born in the North. The weather made a perfect excuse for Sansa to wear the dresses that she had packed away when it started to become warm. She made sure that the dresses she wore covered the small of her neck. The purplish bruise that lingered on her skin wasn't fading. While it would be more convenient for the bruise to fade, part of Sansa wanted it to stay exactly where it was.

Sansa ran her hands down the brown dress, easing out the creases. She smiled a cheeky smile when she felt the small bump that was close to the side of her hip. Just beneath her dress was the silver mockingbird pin that Baelish had left on her bedside table, neatly pinned to her corset. She didn't like the thought of leaving it in her chambers seemed unbearable. Sansa wanted it close to her and placing it somewhere that no one would see felt appropriate. Every time she felt it more or when she would grace it with the side of her arm, her mind would flash to his hands and his tongue on her. She shivered at the memory.

Lady came toward her from somewhere in the woods. Her grey-white fur blowing lightly in the wind. The direwolf laid down and placed her head on Sansa's lap. She slowly began to rub the wolf behind the ears. Lady had always been protective of her and was always within quick distance of her master. Sansa assumed it was because the wolf found her too late once. She had failed to protect her and the wolf would never fail again. Sansa leaned down and kissed Lady on the top of her head.

She had always found it amusing that the direwolf that was carved on her dagger, resembled Lady. She wasn't sure if Jon had it engraved to resemble her specific direwolf or if it simply turned out that way. As she continued to pet Lady, Baelish's words about her keeping the dagger on her at all times rang loud and clear. She rarely ever left her chambers without it but if she did she knew that Lady would always be nearby.

“You're not being a very good friend.” Arya's voice sounded from the side of the tree, with her own direwolf at her side. The younger girl was perched up against it, with her arms crossed. She was in a dress, as she had been all week. Not once wearing the boys clothes she wore during her fencing lessons. The dress was a dark blue dress and even the cloak she wore to keep herself warm was lovely. Her long brown hair was piled on top of her head in a small bun. She almost looked like a lady of the North.

“Well don't you look pretty?” Sansa replied and Arya rolled her eyes as she scowled. She pushed herself off of the tree and sat down beside her sister. Nymeria followed her master and sat down beside her. “Did Mother dress you this morning?” Sansa snickered as Arya huffed.

“Father said to humor her until he returns from Deepwood.” Arya stated and Sansa looked down at her lap. She didn't need to be reminded of Deadwood. It had only been a few days but she missed him. She knew that he would be home within a week but it still ached that he was not at Winterfell. It didn't help matters that her courses came the day after his departure. Although it worked in her favor causing Catelyn to believe that it was her courses that caused her to seek out Luwin that dreadful afternoon. “I'm hoping that he will be able to convince her to return Needle but I doubt it. She was rather angry with him the morning they left.”

“You know their arguments do not last long, especially if they have been apart for days at a time.” Sansa replied, hoping to calm her sister's nerves. Arya had been forced to go without her fencing lessons and forced to attend the sewing lessons with Septa Mordane. Arya had been in a foul mood for the entire week. “And why exactly am I being a bad friend?”

“Oh, Jeyne. She is complaining that you are not in the castle right now helping her prepare for her wedding. I told her that you were rather cross with her and she could not imagine why.” Arya stated and that caused Sansa simply shake her head. She had been avoiding the bride as much as she could. She almost found relief in the sewing lessons because Jeyne declared that she was soon to be a married women and had no time for such nonsense. Septa Mordane was more than willing to be rid of her. “Although I should tell her that she should be thanking you. If you didn't know she was in the apothecary with Theon then she would still be sneaking around the castle, risking the chance of birthing his bastard.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” Sansa stated innocently. However, she looked at Arya with a small deceiving smile. While she never spoke the truth allowed, Arya knew that Theon had been telling the truth that night. Sansa had known exactly what was occurring in the apothecary and convinced Luwin to make his way toward the place of medicine.

“Of course you don't.” Arya laughed. She leaned against the tree and her sister's shoulder. It made Sansa wonder why her sister wasn't angry with her. If anyone else had learned of Sansa's deception they would have judged her for it. If they knew the part she played, the part Baelish played, they never would be able to look at her the same. The part that scared her the most was that she wanted them to really see her. She wanted them to see who she really was because this part she was playing of the dutiful daughter was exhausting. Yet Arya didn't care. Sansa could fall into the worst of humanity and Arya would always be by her side. Sansa smiled and laced her fingers through her hand. “I heard something interesting today.”

“Hmm?” Sansa smiled lazily.

“Walder Frey died.” Arya stated and Sansa looked surprised. She never met Lord of the Crossing but she heard that he was old, very old. He married several times to women who were far younger than himself. There were rumors that he would never die and that his children would pass on long before he did.

“Where did you hear this?” The elder girl asked. “Eavesdropping again?” Her tone was teasing and Arya giggled. It amazed Sansa how often her sister could go unnoticed. Even though she was the nobel daughter of the house Stark, Arya could almost become invisible to those around her. It was a useful skill and one Sansa wished she could have such an ability. She always seemed to attract attention anywhere she went. She knew she was beautiful and part of her wished that she wasn't. If she wasn't beautiful then maybe she would still be innocent.

“No. I just happened to be looking for you when I passed by Maester Luwin and Ser Rodrik. They were gossiping as ever.” Sansa snorted in the most unladylike manner. Maester Luwin and Ser Rodrick were thick as thieves and gossiped worse than bored old women. It always amused her that they would whisper secrets to each other in the way she would with Arya.

The two girls heard light footsteps in the snow and they looked up to see Catelyn walking toward them. She wore her signature green dress and her long hair was left down around her waist. The Tully fish pin held her dress together and Sansa realized that her mother never really embraced the direwolf. Catelyn would always be a fish in a North full of wolves.

“I wondered where the two of you were off to.” Catelyn stated with a small gentle smile. While she had been rather cross with her children and her husband, she still showed them affection. She had always been the disciplinarian of them all. While Ned was willing exact justice in the name of the King, it was far more difficult for him to punish his own children. “May I join you?” The girls nodded and Catelyn sat down across from them.

“Is it true that Walder Frey died?” Arya asked.  
   
“Yes, a fever took him. His son Stevron sent word to the kingdoms. A funeral will be held at the Twins.” Catelyn replied. Sansa noticed that her mother didn't appear distraught by the news. Catelyn met the man a few times in her life but she never formed a favorable opinion of him. “It's a shame. He was just married.” Sansa and Arya shared a quick look between each other.

“I bet his new bride killed him.”

“Arya!” Catelyn scolded while Sansa laughed. Neither girl could help but notice the small smile playing on Catelyn’s lips.

“What, it’s no secret that he had little success with his wives. One of them was bound to off him eventually.” Arya stated causing Sansa to laugh harder. She wasn’t completely sure as to why she found this as amusing as she did. She didn’t know Walder Frey but he was legendary, and not in a good sense. Sansa was laughing so hard that she held her stomach and toppled over onto Lady’s side. The wolf looked disturbed for a moment before closing her eyes again and falling back asleep.

“And here I was thinking I might allow you to resume your fencing lessons.” That sobered everyone up immediately. Arya sat up straighter and looked directly at Catelyn, who was still wearing a small smirk. Sansa looked between her sister and her mother, not allowing herself to speak. While it made no difference to her if Arya was allowed to continue practicing sword play, she wanted her sister to be happy and if fighting like a boy made her smile then Sansa encouraged it.

“What?” Arya whispered and Sansa was sure she wasn’t breathing.

“You can continue with your lessons if you promise to be careful and no more sneaking around with that sword of yours.” Arya nodded in agreement. Her head bobbing excitedly. “You also must continue attending your lessons with Septa Mordane and you must actually participate while you are there. I don’t want any bad reports.”

“But she hates me!”

“She does not hate you but I will consider the merits of the reports if I do receive any of them. Deal?” Arya nodded. “Now, I put the sword back on you bed. I’m sure Ser Rodrick wouldn’t say no to a lesson.” Arya squealed and threw herself into Catelyn’s arms. She hugged her mother tightly and Catelyn just smiled, holding her back. Sansa could tell that her mother always intended to allow her sister return to her lessons.

“Thank you thank you thank you.” Arya rambled and jumped up. She said “thank you” to her mother once last time before she left the Godswood in breaking speed. Nymeria followed her master. Both Catelyn and Sansa watched the younger girl run away from them alongside her wolf. Sansa had a lazy smile on her face as they were left alone.

“That was kind of you.” Sansa replied.

“I’m her mother. I’m allowed to be kind every now and then.” Catelyn smiled and moved to sit next to her daughter. She took Sansa’s hand into her own. Sansa’s mind flashed to the conversation she had with her mother the night before Ned, Robb, Theon and Baelish left for Deepwood. She felt as though a similar conversation was going to be held. That night she assumed that her father didn’t have a chance to tell her about is concerns regarding Baelish because her mother never mentioned him. “Your father is worried about you.”

“What do you mean?” She wondered why her mother was bringing this up now. She had several days to corner her in regards to Baelish but instead she waits until the day before her husband’s expected return. Sansa knew that her mother was busy, what with helping Jeyne plan the wedding and her normal expectations as Lady of Winterfell. However, Sansa dined with Catelyn and Arya every night. She could have easily detained her afterward the meal or even come to her chambers in the evening. Yet, she had done none of those things. Perhaps it was because Baelish was currently not in Winterfell and that caused her not to feel the need to broach the subject right away. Or she needed time to process how exactly she was going to approach the subject.

“Your father is concerned that you are getting to close to Lord Baelish.” Catelyn stated gently. Sansa huffed in frustration and rolled her eyes. Sansa understood her parents concern because she had to admit that Baelish was not a good man. He was the last person any parent would want their daughter involved with. However, she didn’t care about her parent's concern. While she knew it was irrational, she felt jaded that they showed little concern when it came to Joffery. The only reason they ended the engagement was because they didn’t trust the Lannisters, not that she blamed them. They murdered Bran after all. Yet, Joffery had them fooled. Of course they saw him as a spoiled little boy who always got what he wanted but they didn’t see him for the sadistic prince that he was. Ned simply saw him as an old friend’s son, and yet he wasn’t even that.

“I don’t see why he is making such an issue about Lord Baelish. The man in question has been nothing but kind to me.” Sansa stated honestly. He had been very kind, to her and only her. She just wasn’t going to say how kind he had been. She was sure that Ned would have him run through with a sword if he ever learned of the things she let him do with her body.

“He is certain that he has taken a special interest in you and is afraid that you return that interest. He is concerned of the choices you would make. I know you well enough to know that you would never allow him to take advantage of you and Petyr would never force you into something you didn’t want.” Catelyn stated and Sansa could tell that she was being very careful with the words she was using.

“I’m not saying that Lord Baelish is my choice but would it be horrible if he was? I mean he would be kind to me and like you said, he would never force me into something that I didn’t want. He is wealthy and for more connected than father for example. He would be more than willing to assist the North because he would be family. He is by far the most intelligent person I have ever met and he challenges me.” Sansa paused trying align her words in such a specific manner. “You know him better than anyone. Would he really be such a bad choice?”  

“He is just not who we would have picked for you.” Catelyn stated softly. Her eyes were sorrowful but it wasn’t that she was sad or even depressed. The sorrow came from the realization that Sansa was no longer a child. A women full grown sat beside her and she wondered when exactly that had occurred.

“Like you would have picked Harrold Hardyng?”

“Your father said you were angry about that.” Catelyn stated and she suddenly huffed in frustration. “It was none of Peter's business to tell you such things.” Sansa wondered how long she had been waiting to voice her anger at Baelish. If Sansa hadn’t brought Lord Hardyng’s name into the conversation, she was certain her mother would have avoided it all together. She simply didn’t want to see her daughter’s anger.

“But at least he was honest with me! You promised to keep me informed with the decision but I have to hear from someone else that you were making marriage inquires on my behalf?” Sansa thought it best to forgo the information about her eavesdropping on her parents. That would only make the situation far worse. “Can you imagine how that must have felt? I don’t want to marry a stranger. I don’t want to go to bed with a man I don’t know.”

“I met your father the day we married and we are very happy with the life we have built.” Catelyn stated in rebuttal.

“I know that. I know you and father love each other dearly but that is rare. If you would have married me off to Lord Hardyng, I would have ended up miserable. I eventually would have learned that he would leave my bed in search for another’s. I would have had to deal with his bastard children running around.” Sansa looked directly at her mother and saw her flinch. Jon. Jon had always been a sore spot for Catelyn. Sansa knew that the moment she brought up the topic of bastard children her mother would be more sympathetic toward her. “You of all people should understand that.”

“I would never want that for you.” Catelyn stated in a low voice. Ned breaking their marriage vows and producing his bastard child was something she never was really ever able to forgive him for. She wasn’t sure how she would have survived if Ned had completely disregarded her and produced several more children that were not her’s. It was hard enough to face Jon when he was at Winterfell, she couldn’t imagine how it would have been if there were more of him. When Jon took the black and went to the Wall, it was the only relief she had at such a time. There had always been a small part of her that felt guilty for her actions toward Jon but she couldn’t bring herself to feel anything else. Her guilt lessoned when he made something of his life. Lord Commander is an achievement at any age but seeing that he was still so young made it even more impressive. What made her happy was that he was Lord Commander away from Winterfell. “Petyr just isn’t who he used to be.”

“The funny thing is, he said the same exact thing about you.” Sansa replied and Catelyn looked at her in surprise. When she saw Baelish for the first time after close to twenty years, she was surprised that he was no longer the clever boy she had known. Instead he turned into the intelligent and powerful man that stood in control of the Vale. There was a darker edge to him that she never thought was possible for him. “He told me stories of when you were children. He said that he loved you and it took a long time for him to let go of that. When he saw you after Aunt Lysa's had died, he realized that you were not the women he built up in his mind. People change. He might not be your choice but he might be someone else's.” 

“Is he your choice?” It was as though she was more willing to be open to the possibility, whether or not she liked the idea. Catelyn might not be excited by the prospect of Petyr as her son-in-law but she at least wouldn't fight her like her father would.

“I don't know.” It was the truth. Sansa didn't know if Baelish was her choice. She honestly had no idea what she wanted from him in the long term. She knew she wanted him to teach her everything he knew. She wanted to be able to manipulate people and move in such a way that everything fell into her favor. She didn't know anyone else who would be able to teach her such things. However, while their game might be one thing in Winterfell, it would be far more dangerous in King's Landing. Did she really want to go there? Put herself in such a position that she was constantly looking over her shoulder? 

Sinister things are stirring in King's Landing. Baelish told her that once. He told her to remember it. King's Landing was dangerous and that mere thought of going there terrified her. She would have to see Joffery again and she would be perfectly happy if that never were to occur. It would be walking straight into the lion's den if she decided to play Baelish's game.

However, the game thrilled her. She only had a mere taste of what the game could offer and she was sure it was far more exciting than she was expecting. Creating Theon's downfall caused the blood to rush through her veins that she felt intoxicated. Then Baelish's reward caused a new high that she could't wait to experience again. She was certain that he would give her anything she asked for. If she wanted diamonds from Asshai, then diamonds she shall have. If she wanted the lion to bleed, then blood she shall have. 

Yet, was that enough for her to consider taking the Baelish name? Trade in her direwolf for a mockingbird? Sansa didn't know the answer. When she imagined marriage, it was to a faceless stranger who brutalized her every night in the same manner Joffery had. She feared marriage. She feared becoming someone's property; a toy to be dangled and played with. She felt that Baelish would be different, that she would be his equal but she couldn't allow hope to rule her. If she did, then it would ruin her far more than she already was.

Lysa Arryn. 

The name sounded in her mind so forcefully. Sansa and Arya once discussed the possibility of Baelish having a hand in his wife's death, but he had just been a name to her then. Now, he was so much more than that and the possibility that he murdered his wife lingered in the back of her mind from time to time. She believed it possible. He was never cruel to her and never laid a hand on her in a manner that she never wanted. Yet, she knew that he was dangerous and if he needed someone gone, one way or another that person would be gone. If he needed Lysa out of the way in order to gain control of the Eyrie, then her corpse would be the only thing left of her. Sansa could never be sure but she knew that he either had her killed or he did it directly, covering his tracks later. 

It made Sansa wonder what would happen if she outgrew her usefulness to him. He liked her now, when she would fall on her back for him and when he had the thrill of molding her into a version closer to himself. But what would happen when time moved forward and they had been bound to each other for so long? What would happen to her?

Would her fate be similar to Lysa Arryn's? A broken body thrown out the moon door? Or would it be an ending much sweeter? Either way, Sansa knew that her story wasn't a fairytale but a tragedy instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this may seem similar to the conversation she had with Ned but it had happen with both parents. Separately. Catelyn's reaction would be far different if Ned had been involved. Plus I wanted to give her time to mull over the idea of Petyr and Sansa before ever actually coming to Sansa. I imagine that Ned informed her of his worries the night Petyr and Sansa had their nigh time visit in her bedroom. I find it funny it they would talk about their worries the exact same moment that Sansa was lying flat on her back for Petyr..


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I promised, another chapter.

The wedding between Theon Greyjoy and Jeyne Poole was held on a dark and rainy day. The rain was so cold that it was almost frozen as it fell from the sky. The clouds were dark and stormy, causing the wind to howl in the most ferocious manner. The howl was louder than any direwolf and the sound haunted the walls of Winterfell. The weather caused the more suspicious lot to believe it was an omen. They said it felt like the beginning of the end of Winterfell.

While a chill rang through the stone halls, one person in particular couldn't allow the foul weather to spoil her happiness. She stood in Sansa's chambers preparing for her last few hours of being Jeyne Poole. Even the sounds of the unforgivable rain hitting the glass wouldn't damper her spirits. She giggled and laughed as the servant girls pinned her hair. Sansa was willing to bet that Theon has bedded each one of those girls, an irony that Jeyne was either ignorant to or just simply ignored. 

It was in that moment, watching Jeyne love the attention she was receiving, that Sansa realized what a perfect nobel born she would have made. Her innocence and vanity suited the role perfectly. She would become Lady of the Iron Islands one day. A useless title now but a title none the less. She wondered how long it would take before reality sunk in. If the rumors she heard were true, then the Iron Islands were as unforgiving as the ocean its self. They would break a girl like Jeyne. 

Sansa sat on the bed leaning on her hands and played the part of a dutiful friend. She smiled at all the right places and laughed when Jeyne expected her to. She let the girl ramble on about how wonderful her life would be and how dear Theon was. Sansa rarely needed to speak because Jeyne filled the silence with her chattering. While she pretended to be happy, Sansa couldn't find herself more annoyed. She knew that she just had to grin an bear it. The knowledge that in the morning both Theon and Jeyne would be on their way to the gods forsaken islands to live out their days in misery was reward enough for her. 

When Sansa would sink into the bed the next night, Theon and all the distress he brought to her and her family would be removed. She could only hope that their paths never crossed again. Once Jeyne's hair was pinned up in a perfect manner, Sansa shooed the girls away. She slid slowly from the bed and placed her hands on the white fabric that laid upon the bride's shoulders. She gave a gentle squeeze and Jeyne placed her hand on top of Sansa's.

“I'm nervous.” Jeyne whispered. It was gentle and childlike. It almost made her forget that Jeyne wasn't a maiden. The way she spoke would make anyone believe that this was a girl who was terrified to go to the marriage bed. Yet Sansa knew that this wasn't an act because while Jeyne could keep secrets, she wasn't one to outright lie. Sansa knew how to play her parts well but Jeyne was not an actress. “This is all I've ever wanted and now that I have it, I'm scared.” 

“You will be fine. Theon will take you away to the Iron Islands and it will be like the songs we used to sing.” Sansa stated with a small smile on her face. Jeyne seemed to be pacified. She suddenly stood from the vanity and took the taller girl into an embrace. Sansa was stiff and patted the bride on the back, hoping she would pull away. After a moment she did and Sansa could see a watery smile. 

“Do you think we will see each other again?” Jeyne asked in a low voice. If Sansa tried hard enough, she could almost feel sorry for her. She was being ripped away from her home and sent to a place that she had never been before. It would be scary for anyone. Yet, Sansa couldn't muster the energy. Theon would be gone and any sacrifice Sansa had make, she was willing to do so. 

“Maybe one day.” Sansa stated and she prayed to the old gods that she never laid eyes upon her again. A light knock sounded on the door and Sansa moved across the chamber to answer it. Once the door was open, Vayon Poole, Jeyne's father stood behind it. In his hand was an old hat that was being twisted so tightly it would almost be unwearable. It was no secret that Vayon made it quite clear of his disappointment in his daughter. If Ned had not commanded Theon to marry Jeyne, Sansa was certain this man would have done something to the Iron Born in retaliation. 

“Lady Sansa, would you permit me a few moments with my daughter before the ceremony?” Sansa nodded and stepped aside to allow the older man to enter. When Jeyne saw her father she looked down at the ground almost in shame. Sansa stepped outside into the corridor and closed the door behind her. She knew that it wouldn't be long before the ceremony would start and she figured it would be best to head to the Great Keep. 

She could still hear the wind howl and for a few moments it caused a chill to run down her spine. Guards were posted all around the corridors that led to the Great Keep. It was a tradition to make sure that the bride walked down the aisle safely but the guards littering the halls was a bit extreme. Sansa was led to believe that it wasn't the bride they intended to protect but rather to prevent the groom from fleeing. She also believed that the guards were there to prevent her from spending to much time alone with someone in particular. 

Once Sansa reached the Great Keep, she saw a swarm of people lingering. It wasn't a big wedding but most of Jeyne's family was in attendance. She saw Mrs. Poole standing in a corner crying, shooting daggers at Theon who was standing by a Septon. There was only one Septon in the North because most of the citizens still prayed to the Old Gods. Ned found that it would be insulting to allow Theon to be wed in front of the Weirwood and in front of the Old Gods. So he allowed a Septon into Winterfell in order to wed Jeyne and Theon in the eyes of the Seven. 

Sansa moved to the other side of the keep, passing Mrs. Poole. Vayon had been silent as the grave when the news of his daughter's ruin first came to light. It was a deadly silence that brought chill to the bone until his rage took over. His wife wailed and became inconsolable when she learned that Jeyne would be taken away by the man who forced himself upon her, at least that was how Mrs. Poole believed the incident transpired. Mrs. Poole had begged Ned to reconsider, to allow Jeyne to stay in her home. Ned would never allow it because he believed that Theon needed to be punished. He felt sorry for the girl but she made her bed and now it was time for her to lie in it.

Ned stood by the Septon and Theon, keeping a close eye upon the groom who looked miserable. He did not look like a man who was about to be married. If anything he looked as though he was about to head to the execution block. While he was finely dressed Sansa could tell that he looked ill. She imagined he spent his last night as a bachelor drinking himself into a stupor. If he hadn't been locked in his chambers she knew he would have been whoring himself. 

Sansa moved to stand by Arya who was speaking in low tones with their mother. Once again Arya was dressed beautifully in a dress that was only worn for special occasions. While Arya was in deep green, Sansa's dressed was a dark burgundy with a black belt around her waist. The red hair was piled upon her head with a few curls dangling around her porcelain skin. 

Her eyes moved across the aisle and saw Baelish looking at her. His eyes were soft and he gave her a small smile. Beautiful. He whispered and Sansa smiled back at him. He had been back for two days and they rarely had a moment together. The castle was crawling with more guards than before and Sansa knew it couldn't be just for Theon. She never seemed to find a moment alone because everywhere she turned, someone seemed to be there. If she leaved her chamber after dark for any reason there would be a guard there to see her. A late night visit and rendezvous became impossible. Being able to see him but not touch him made Sansa ache for him even more. Any doubts and fears, while they still lingered, always seemed to erase themselves when he looked at her.

Before long a silence grew over the crowd and Sansa looked over to the entrance of the Great Keep. Vayon stood there with Jeyne on his arm. Sansa saw the bright look upon her face and she knew that her wedding was the last time she would ever truly be happy. It almost caused her to feel sorry for the girl. While every member of the small gathering knew the story behind the couple, no one could fault that it was a beautiful wedding. They walked slowly up the aisle and Vayon took his daughter's hand and placed it in Theon's. 

Theon took the golden embroidered cloak off of his shoulder's and placed it upon Jeyne's signaling his protection of her. A beautiful lie. There would be no protection for Jeyne in Theon's care. Sansa could see the golden kraken on the cloak as it hung off of her shoulders. The Septon spoke but Sansa couldn't hear him. Instead she focused on the couple and how different they were. The bride was overjoyed yet the groom looked as though he would rather die than be married to her. 

Sansa turned her head and saw Baelish watching her. His eyes flickered to the ceremony and then back at her. The words that the Septon was preaching washed over her and she couldn't look away from Baelish. She wondered what he was thinking and if the vows penetrated him as the did her.

“Father, Smith, Warrior,  
Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger.  
I am hers/his and she/he is mine,  
From this day until the end of my days.” 

“My Lords, My ladies, you stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul......now and forever” Jeyne leaned in to kiss Theon but Sansa missed it, as did Baelish. While the rest of the congregation lightly gave a small applause, Sansa didn't even flinch. The two of them seemed to be lost in their own world. She was sure she would have stood there for hours on end if she had not felt Arya's hand touch her arm. Sansa jumped and looked down at your sister. Arya smirked, shook her head and linked her arm with Sansa's. As she was being dragged out of the Great Keep, Sansa looked over her shoulder to see Baelish watching them leave. 

The feast was held in the dining hall and it was lovely as it was loud. The drink flowed freely and as the hour grew darker, the more intoxicated the wedding party grew. If it had been any other situation, Ned would have dictated how much his children drank but on this occasion, he himself was far to intoxicated to notice. Theon sat at the high table beside Ned, who arranged the seating as such in order to keep a strong hand over the groom, and he indulged himself as he always did. The only difference was that he was not loud and boisterous but deadly silent instead. 

Jeyne sat in-between her father and Theon simply looking around. She wore a small smile on her face and would on occasion lean over to speak to Theon who would grunt in reply. Jeyne never noticed her new husband's distaste. Robb had been seated between Arya and Sansa but he moved off some time ago and Sansa had lost track of him. Catelyn had moved toward her drunken husband and was busy keeping him from completely eviscerating the groom. Baelish moved and sat between the two girls. While he was focused on Sansa he positioned himself in a way that included Arya if she desired to be so. 

“Enjoying you drink, Lady Sansa?” Baelish asked and a Sansa flushed. She looked at him and raised her eyebrow. It has been the first words that he has uttered to her since he returned that hasn't been completely supervised by her father. If either of them attempted a moment alone together it seemed that someone always prevented that from happening. 

“You once told me that indulging yourself with drink would only cause the secrets you hold dear to come tumbling from your lips.” She smirked at him in a stone cold sober manner. She raised her glass and sipped slowly from it. He leered at her. “I believe you said it was some helpful advice.” 

“I am pleased that you take my counsel seriously.” He turned and looked at the younger girl. “And what you Lady Arya? Do you enjoy your wine.” Baelish asked and Arya just rolled her eyes. While she could tell that the two of them enjoyed their word play, Arya did not have the enjoyment for it. Games bore her because she felt that being direct was a far better approach.

“I don't like wine.” Arya replied in a bland manner, causing Baelish to laugh. His smile grew wide as he took in the girl. Arya was a girl of fifteen and nearly a women grown but her appearance made her seem so much younger. It was that appearance that made her so easy to over look and Baelish realized that it could be used to his advantage one day.

“Good. A women with your skills would always prove more valuable if she had her wits about her.” Baelish smirked. He looked at her and Arya squirmed slightly. It wasn't the same look he gave Sansa but Arya felt as through he was evaluating her worth. Before Arya could reply Sansa jumped in with narrowed eyes.

“Pray Lord Baelish, may I inquire after something?”

“As you wish Lady Sansa.” Baelish stated and crossed his legs. He was curious as to what she had to say but Arya simply snorted. While the two of them might be enjoying their conversation, she found herself growing bored. She missed Jon in those moments. He always made events such as these far more entertaining. 

“What exactly did you and my father speak of when you were in Deadwood? Because I found that since your return I have scarcely have a moment alone....with anyone.” She found the constant companionship of someone whose main purpose was to avoid her moment alone with the one person she wanted to be alone with irritating. She had come to learn more of the guard's names in the last two days that she had in the seventeen years she had lived in Winterfell. 

“We spoke of many things. We spoke of taxes, the state of the North, the wedding and even shared a few conversations about his bastard son.” Baelish stated. She wondered what kind of interest he would have in Jon but she didn't dwell on that curiosity to much. “I may have also mentioned a certain fondness I have developed for you.” 

“What!? You-” 

“Shh Sweetling. We don't want you drawn attention to us now do we?” Baelish moved in his seat and turned his back on Arya, whose eyes were darting between the two of them. He leaned in but never touched her. He looked directly at her. “I didn't speak of anything scandalous my dear because I'm sure I wouldn't live to tell the tale if I did. I just may have hinted at the fact that I enjoy your companionship. You've already planted the seed in your father's mind and it was best to nurture the idea. While a blindside can be tantalizing and satisfying, sometimes it is best to have your foe expecting the outcome.” 

“And what are we nurturing exactly?” 

“All in good time.” Baelish replied. He took her hand and brought it to his lips. While the very proper kiss on the hand was in full view of everyone, hardly anyone saw a thing. Their judgment and vision was clouded by wine. Baelish stood from his seat. “I'm headed down to your father's solar. I need to review some accounts. If you would like to join me, I'm sure you will find a way to slip away.” 

With that Baelish left the two girls sitting at the table to enjoy the feast. Sansa watched him navigate his way through the crowd. When he reached the two giant wooden doors he paused and turned around. He looked directly at her and smirked. When he slipped away, Sansa's eyes traveled the crowd. Mostly everyone was merry and loud. Arya moved to the seat that Baelish had just vacated. 

“What do you think you are doing?” Arya asked in a hushed tone. She knew that her sister was playing a game with Baelish but Arya chose to ignore what she deemed was obvious. The one that thing that the sisters had in common was their desire for more than the life they were given. Arya felt that she was destined for something far greater than becoming a lady of some great house. She could see that Baelish might be a way out for Sansa and perhaps a way out for her as well. Yet, Sansa's actions went beyond anything she could have anticipated. 

“Playing the game.” Sansa replied as chaos erupted around them. There were cheers and cries as Jeyne was lifted up into the air along with Theon. The bedding ceremony began and Sansa knew that this was her chance. She joined the crowd and moved along with them them as they pulled at Jeyne's clothing. She could hear Jeyne's shrieks and giggles over the crowd. Never before has she heard a bride so eager for her wedding night. All the brides she had seen on their wedding day always seemed so nervous about the marriage bed. Yet Jeyne knew what was to come and she anticipated it. 

The crowed moved out into the hall. Sansa stayed with the them as the moved and drunkenly shouted. They carried the bride and groom through the torched lit corridors toward the bed chamber that had been set aside for this occasion. The crowd sat both Jeyne and Theon on the ground. Jeyne was high on adrenaline and excitement that she grabbed Theon and locked her lips onto his. The crowd cheered and Sansa looked around. The faces she saw were mainly made of servants and guards. She saw not one member of her family or even Jeyne's. 

Sansa slipped away from the ground and started to head back toward the Great Keep. She could hear the crowd coming back hoping to rejoin the feast. When she reached the Great Keep she peered inside quickly and saw that her father was still seated at the head table, his head was down. Sansa could only assume that he indulged a bit to heavily. She didn't blame him, he had been far to stressed the last couple of weeks. Catelyn sat beside him, running her fingers through his brown hair and whispered in his ear. Robb sat next to his father and was in deep discussion with Vayon and a sobbing Mrs. Poole. She had no idea where Arya was. 

Sansa turned when she heard the crowd approaching. If she was going escape, now was her chance. It appeared her family was going to remain in the dining all for some time and the crowd would surly be a distraction. They would have awhile before her family discovered her absence but it would be enough time. Sansa pushed away from the wooden doors and started to run down the corridor. She wanted to be away from the crowd when the made their way into the dining hall. 

She heard her feet hit the stone flooring along with her hurried breath echo off the walls. The sounds of the drunken crowd grew fainter and fainter behind her. She turned a corner and then another weaving her way through the halls of Winterfell. Eventually she saw her father's solar in sight. When she reached the door she paused before pushing it open. She stepped inside and locked the door behind her.

Baelish was seated behind her father's desk with a candle lit beside him. He moved a quill against a parchment bound book. She had never seen him at work before and she had to admit that it was attractive. When he saw her enter, he threw her that infamous leer and slowly closed the book and pushed it aside. He stood from behind the desk and placed his palms against the wood. 

“That was faster than I was anticipating. Perhaps I still underestimate you.” His voice was low and husky. Sansa stepped forward and placed her fingers on the desk. She trailed her fingers against it as she made her way around the desk and toward Baelish.

“I left with the bedding ceremony.” Sansa whispered. She picked up the candle and blew the flame out before placing it back onto the desk. The solar was dark but a few candles remained lit in the candelabra, allowing light to flicker against the shadows. The storm still raged outside and the rain could be heard hitting against the window. “I don't have to much time before it is noticed that I am missing.” 

“Then I guess we have to make most of the time we have.” With that Baelish grabbed Sansa and locked his lips with her's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so remember when I mentioned plot chapters? This is kind of one of them, but it will be broken into three parts. It just wouldn't have gone well in one chapter. I want to much to happen. Each chapter is roughly five and a half to six pages long. If I put it all in one chapter, they would have reached about eighteen pages long. While I am sure none of you would mind that, the tension and anticipation would be better broken up into three separate chapters. 
> 
> I will try my hardest to get the next one out ASAP because I want them updated within close succession of each other, but I make no promises.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...here we go again. I really excited what you guys will think of this chapter.

Baelish was seated behind her father's desk with a candle lit beside him. He moved a quill against a parchment bound book. She had never seen him at work before and she had to admit that it was attractive. When he saw her enter, he threw her that infamous leer and slowly closed the book and pushed it aside. He stood from behind the desk and placed his palms against the wood. 

“That was faster than I was anticipating. Perhaps I still underestimate you.” His voice was low and husky. Sansa stepped forward and placed her fingers on the desk. She trailed her fingers against it as she made her way around the desk and toward Baelish.

“I left with the bedding ceremony.” Sansa whispered. She picked up the candle and blew the flame out before placing it back onto the desk. The solar was dark but a few candles remained lit in the candelabra, allowing light to flicker against the shadows. The storm still raged outside and the rain could be heard hitting against the window. “I don't have to much time before it is noticed that I am missing.” 

“Then I guess we have to make most of the time we have.” With that Baelish grabbed Sansa and locked his lips with her's. Their lips molded together in a hurried frenzy. His tongue traced the outline of her lips, begging for her to allow him to enter. Her lips parted allowing him access to her tongue. They battled for a moment until Petyr broke away. Sansa latched onto his throat and began suckling up and down his neck. Petyr moaned and hissed when Sansa's teeth grazed his skin.

Sansa placed her hands on his chest and pushed him into her father's chair. He looked at her with lust filled eyes. She placed her knees on each side of his legs. She straddled him and sat on his lap. Their breath mingled together and Sansa weaved her fingers through his hair. She pulled his head back and latched her lips to his again. They kissed for a few moments as Baelish allowed her complete control. When she pulled away, Sansa bit down on his bottom lip causing him to moan. 

Baelish placed his hands on her hips, bring her center closer to him. She arched her back and began to rotate her hips against him. The movements were slow and agonizing but when Baelish would attempt to increase the pace, Sansa would pull at his hair in punishment. He ran his hand up the side of her leg, causing her burgundy dress to bunch up at her waist. When he attempted move his hand toward her center, she caught his wrist and pulled his hand away from her. 

“Tsk tsk.” Sansa leaned in, pressing her breast against his chest and placed her lips by his ear. “No touching.” She bit down lightly on his ear before nipping her way down his neck. “Did you know that you left me with a bruise? Right here?” Sansa asked as she continued to rotate her hips in an painfully slow manner. Baelish simply grunted in response. “I think it would only be appropriate if I repaid the favor.” With that Sansa continued to rotate her hips and nip at the small of his neck. 

Baelish just sat there in complete agony as he allowed Sansa to have complete control over his person. She removed her hand from his hair and placed both of them against his chest. As she continued to suckled at his neck she began to slowly undo each tie on his coat. Eventually each button was undone and Sansa pushed the coat open to reveal the tunic underneath. 

She detached her lips from his neck and began to undo the ties of his tunic. One by one she pulled the strings loose revealing his chest. She pushed the coat he was still wearing off of his shoulder's. Baelish moved his arms in order to pull the coat completely off. Once that was removed, Sansa untucked the tunic from his breeches and pulled it over his head. She tossed down the tunic on the floor and it landed by the chair they were currently occupying. 

Sansa leaned in to kiss him again and she jerked her hips forward causing the chair to creek. She unlocked their lips and kissed her way down his jaw. She kissed the spot where a bruise was forming and Baelish could feel her smile against his skin. She didn't linger there long but trailed a line of kisses long his collar bone. She pulled one of her legs off of the chair and placed her boot covered foot on the ground. The loss of contact almost made Sansa whimper. 

With her new found leverage, Sansa was able to place a kiss at the very top of his scar. She moved so her other leg was completely untangled from him. She moved her hands to the handles of the chair. Slowly she kissed her way down his chest and never once breaking away from the scar. As Sansa grew closer and closer to his navel, she heard Baelish take in a sharp breath. 

“Sweetling what are you doing?” He asked looking down at her. Sansa didn't answer him. She could tell that his eyes grew dark and that there was a hunger in them. She leered at him and placed herself on her knees. Sansa ran her hands up his arms and then at a agonizing pace she ran the tips of her fingers down his chest, following the invisible trail of kisses she left behind. 

She reached for the first string holding his breeches together. She pulled it apart and then pulled the next one, followed by the next one. Soon his breeches were completely undone and Sansa pushed the fabric aside. She couldn't help but freeze at the sight of him. It was bigger than she thought it would be. It was long, hard and wet and this was the first time she ever saw a man's genitalia up close and personal. Her eyes grew wide at the thought of allowing that anywhere near her. 

Ever since the night that Baelish put his lips to the most personal area of her body, Sansa couldn't help but think about doing the same. She knew roughly what a man looked like unclothed, she did have brothers after all, but she never imagined it would be like this. She felt a hand be placed on her cheek and she tore her eyes away from his member.

“You don't have to do anything you don't want to do.” His voice was low and caring. His concern gave Sansa the strength she needed. She turned her head and kissed the palm of his hand. 

“I want to.” She moved up and pushed him lightly so he would lean back in his seat. Baelish got a small gleam in his eye and gave her that famous smirk. Sansa leaned forward and placed a kiss on the tip of him. She heard him hiss and that made her smirk. Sansa poked her tongue out between her lips and licked the entire length of him. The sudden assault caused Baelish to suck in a breath.

“Oh gods.” His voice was throaty and breathless. Sansa glanced at him and she saw him swallow. Seeing him in such a manner made her feel powerful and she wanted to continue pleasuring him. She opened her mouth and took him in fully. She had to pause for a moment to allow her throat muscles to relax in order to prevent herself from gagging. The taste of his wasn't as bad as she imagined. He was salty and sticky but not disgusting as she thought this might be. 

Slowly, Sansa began to bob her head. Baelish moved his hands and threaded them into her elegant curls. She knew that her hair would be a mess after this but she couldn't bring herself to really care. His hands tightened slightly and started to direct her movements, something she was grateful for. She followed the pace that he had set. 

“Use you hand.” Listening to his command, Sansa took one of her hand and covered the part of his that was engulfed in her mouth. “Now grip me” She did. “Lightly” She released her pressure slightly. “Good. Now massage-oh Sweetling” Looking up slightly, she found that his head and fallen backwards and his eyes were closed. His bottom lip was sucked in between teeth and she presumed it was to prevent him from crying out too loudly. While the storm outside would cover their moans, getting to loud could still cause problems. “Stop. Stop.” With a gentle yank of her hair, Baelish pulled Sansa away from him.

“What? I thought-” Before she could even finish her sentence, Baelish pulled her up from her knees and devoured her lips. His arms wrapped around her and scooped her up. He placed Sansa on her father's desk. While his lips still attacked her, he removed the black belt that was holding the dress together. Once that offensive article of clothing was removed and tossed aside, the remainder of the dress fell down around her waist. Nestled on the side of her corset, Baelish saw the small mockingbird pin that he had left her. Seeing it there caused a smile to appear on his lips. He traced the silver pin with his fingertips. 

“I wondered where you put that.” Baelish place a few kisses on her jawline. 

“I wore it everyday.” 

“Good.” He kissed her lips again. His fingers went to the back of her corset and began to untie them. Sansa couldn't help but notice that he seemed to have no trouble unlacing it. It would appear that he was highly skilled at unlacing corsets and she didn't know if she should feel grateful or jealous. He pulled the corset from her and tossed it in the same direction as her belt. Baelish placed his hands on her shoulders and then pushed the straps of her chaise down. He followed the fabric down her skin, grazing her newly exposed breast as he went. He reached out and took one of her breast into her hands, allowing his thumb to run over her peak. He messaged her and it caused a low whimper to escape her lips.“Beautiful.” 

He lowered his lips toward the tops of her breasts and kissed her cleavage. He moved his lips downwards and he took a peak fully into his mouth. Sansa threw her head back and moaned at his assault. Eventually he moved onto her her other breast. His hand went to message the breast that was not being kissed by his lips. Sansa grew tired of his actions, laced her fingers in his hair and pulled his head up to her lips. 

Their kiss was feverish and hasty. Sansa parted her legs in order to make room for Baelish to come closer. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing her breasts against his naked chest. The feel of skin on skin contact was exhilarating. Baelish ran his hands up her stocking covered calf and began to undo the holster that held her dagger. Once the leather straps were completely undone, he pulled it away from her and placed the dagger on the end of the desk. His hands traveled farther north and when he grazed her nub, Sansa's hips jerked forward. Baelish played with her for a moment before leaning in to whisper in her ear.

“Do you want this? I can stop.” Baelish looked directly into her ice blue eyes, searching for her permission. His voice was breathless but Sansa found his hard to focus on that with his finger doing such naughty things to her. 

“No. Please. Don't stop. I want you.” Baelish kissed her then in a soft and gentle manner. She felt his hand move away from her. He pushed the breeches that still hung open down around his ankles. He took himself in hand and Sansa could feel his tip near his entrance. She looked him directly in the eye and Sansa saw no malicious there. There was no cruelty, no evil. Just him. Sansa took his lips in her's and kissed him. Slowly Baelish eased his way inside of her. It was agonizingly slow but soon he was inside her completely, filling her to the hilt. It wasn't painful but tight and slightly uncomfortable. Their lips broke apart and their foreheads together. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yes.”

“Lie back.” Sansa did as she was told, allowing the cold wood to hit her bare back. Her eyes focused on the stone ceiling and the shadows that danced across them. The sound of the never ending storm raging outside filled her ears. Baelish gripped her hips and ever so slowly he began to move his hips. Sansa could feel him leave her slightly before entering her again. It was a motion he repeated over and over again. 

It was nothing like Joffery. There was no pain. There was no more fear. Just this antagonizing pleasure. After a few thrusts, Baelish began to pick up speed and it only increased her desire. Sansa reached behind her and gripped her hands against the creaking desk. The moans and whimpers that were coming from her lips only caused him to thrust against her faster. 

One of his hands left her hips and went toward her center. As he continued to move inside of her, his finger began to assault her pearl. This caused Sansa to fully arch off the desk and release a deep moaned that had been hanging in the back of her throat. She was soaring. Her toes curled in her boots and nothing else mattered of than the sweet pulse running throughout her. 

“I can't. I have to-” Suddenly Baelish was no longer inside her. He pulled out of her so quickly that the lose of him caused Sansa to sit up so quickly. She was still dazed from her release that she didn't full quite understand what had happened. Her eyes widened when she saw Baelish take himself in hand and furiously move his hand up and down his member. It wasn't long before she saw that constricting look upon his face and she watched as he spilt himself into his hand. 

Baelish stood still for a moment, allowing himself to breath. It wasn't long before his flaccid member was released and he bent down to pull his breeches up. He fastened himself tightly before moving toward his coat that was still sprawled open on her father's chair. He removed a handkerchief from a pocket and wiped off his hand thoroughly. He folded the handkerchief in half and walked over to the side of the desk. He wiped off the edge of the desk where some of his seed had spilt. They didn't need Ned investigating the small sticky substance on his desk and how it got there. 

Baelish folded the handkerchief again and walked toward Sansa. He stepped between her legs again and kissed her lovely on the lips. She felt the cloth begin to wipe her clean of her own juices and of his. The moment was odd but she couldn't help but feel comfort in the actions. It was caring, gentle and it pacified her doubts. 

He moved his hand to her hair and smirked. She could only imagine the state that it was in. He began to remove the pins and ties causing her red curls to fall down her back. He ran his hands through the curls, removing any knots that might have form. His eyes lingered over her and he seemed to be enjoying the sight. Baelish kissed her again and she could feel the satisfied smile against her lips. He grabbed the straps of her chase, she looped her arms through them and he brought the to her shoulders.

Baelish held out his hand which Sansa eagerly took. She hopped down off of the desk and tumbled slightly. He caught her with a small chuckle. She was still completely dazed at what had just transpired. He moved to grab the dagger off the desk and kneeled in front of her to fasten it around her leg. He bent down to pick up her corset that was still lying on the ground. He unhooked the mockingbird pin and placed it on the desk. He turned her around, wrapped the corset around her waist and began to tie it. Sansa was surprised that he knew how to do such a thing. Unlacing a corset was one thing but for a man to know how to do the exact opposite was surprising. 

As he slowly dressed her, her mind began to wonder. Her senses were returning to her. Once he was finished with the laces, she felt him wrap his arms around her middle and hold her. He placed his head on her shoulder and kissed the small of her neck. She leaned back into him and let the moment take over. 

“Can I ask you something?” Sansa asked. Her voice was low that Baelish almost missed it. He kissed her neck again in a gentle manner. Sansa placed her hands on his.

“Sweetling, you could ask me anything in this moment and I wouldn't be able to deny you.” He replied and Sansa smiled. If she was of sounder mind, she would have replied with a quick retort but she was exhausted from their activities and had no desire to tease him when he was being sweet. She turned around in his arms and locked her arms around his neck. She leaned in and kissed him. 

“After I had....finished?” Sansa asked in a confused tone. She was unclear of the correct terminology but Baelish nodded, understanding what she had meant to say. “After I had finished, why did you pull yourself out of me?” She wasn't expecting him to do so. She was expecting him to release himself inside of her just as her mother had explained would happen on her wedding night.

Joffery hadn't pulled out of her. She shuddered to remember feeling the hot seed spilling inside of her. She remembered how he just pulsed inside of her, with her arms pinned above her head. She had stopped crying and fighting by that point. Joffery pulled himself out and stood to clean himself. He showed no affection toward her or no sorrow. He couldn't even look at her. He simply left her in the Godswood to die, broken and beaten. 

Yet, it was so different with Baelish. He made sure she enjoyed herself and the thought of him being inside her was now something she didn't find terrifying. She knew that she wanted to do it again, and again. Before she had met him, she didn't understand how relations between a man and a women could be pleasureful. After Arya had caught Theon with that servant girl years ago, Catelyn explained that it would be a joyous experience. This conversation occurred so shortly after......

Sana couldn't allow herself to think of the word.

For so long she had believed that her mother was wrong. It couldn't be pleasureful. There was no possible way for such a thing to occur. She believed that her mother was soothing their fears and pacifying them until the trust had to be told. Not until Baelish had she realized how wrong she was. It was so much more than she was expecting and so much more than her mother prepared her for. Sansa wasn't prepared for him to pull out of her. She didn't realize that he could do such a thing, or that he would want to. 

“Wouldn't it have been more pleasurable for you to stay?” This caused Baelish to smile. He leaned up and kissed her on the forehead. He slowly pulled away from her and walked over to the chair they had previously gotten carried away on. He bent down and retrieved his tunic, throwing it on over his head. He tucked it into his breeches and began lacing the fine fabric back up. 

“It would have been far more enjoyable to allow myself to release inside of you. The thought is very pleasing.” He walked slowly back over to her and placed his hands back on her hips. He felt the burgundy fabric that was still hanging loosely off of her hips. He raised the dress up, slipping her arms through the sleeves and asking her to hold the dress closed. He retrieved the black belt from the ground and wrapped it around her waist. He locked it in place and Sansa was once again fully dress. If it wasn't for the loose curls hanging around her waist, she would have looked exactly like she did at the wedding. “I would have enjoyed very much.” 

“If it would have been so enjoyable, then why didn't you?”

“Isn't it obvious Sweetling? I can't risk getting you with child.” The thought never occurred to her, not now and not then. It was Arya who snuck into Maester Luwin's apothecary to get the moon tea for her in order to prevent pregnancy the first time. It wasn't until Arya had made her the brew that she even considered the possibility of having Joffery's child. She was certain she was going to keep what happened in this solar between Baelish and herself. Arya's quick thinking would be no use to her now. If she did find herself with child after this night, she knew she wouldn't be able to get rid of Baelish's child. Anyone else's child might be easier to be rid of, but not his. “At least not yet.” 

“Not yet?” Sansa pulled away from him. She looked at him with confusion. “What do you mean, not yet?” 

“When I leave Winterfell, I have every intention to taking you with me.” Baelish leaned in again and kissed her. Their lips mingled for a few moments before he kissed the corner of her mouth and slowly down her jaw. When he reached her ear, Sansa could feel his hot breach against her skin. “I intend on taking you to King's Landing with me, as my wife.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had some trouble deciding where exactly I wanted this chapter to take place. Originally wanted it outside but I really wanted Theon's and Jeyne's wedding to be during a ice storm. Who wants to have sex in the middle of an ice storm outside?? Not me. 
> 
> Then I thought that on top of Ned's desk would be so horrible that it was perfect. It's such a Petyr thing to do. I'm laughing just thinking about it..


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So our system is down at work. I literally cannot do anything work related. But I have internet and luckily I keep a copy of Boden's Mate in my email. So, instead of being productive and getting anything work related done, I'm writing. All day. 
> 
> So! You guys get a chapter sooner than I anticipated.

Sansa's ice blue eyes were wide. Wife. Marriage. Husband. The words hit her like a ton of bricks being dropped on her. While the thought had crossed her mind when she was toying with her parents, she never seriously thought that Baelish even wanted to marry her. He never spoke of it allowed and he never showed any interest other than teaching her how to play the game and lifting her skirts. Not that she minded either of those things.

However the thought of becoming Lady Baelish and mingling her name with his's forever was terrifying. It was not the thought of being with him per se but more over the thought of marriage that scared her. If she married him she would become his property forever and she didn't want to belong to anyone. She wanted to be her own person and make her own choices. She knew that would never happen because she was a women in a man's world.

When she looked at Baelish she felt a thrill run through her. His smile and the way his eyes would rank over her would make her feel safe and wanted. The way he spoke to her made her feel important. Yet, that was now but how would it be in five, ten years down the road? How would their marriage fair in a place such as King's Landing. That place a cesspool for hate, lies and the perfect place for a marriage to be torn apart.

Would they survive that? If she allowed herself to be with this man for better or worse, could she honestly survive the slow descent of him hating her? She knew that he was dangerous and if she became his wife, wouldn't she be the same? Before he mentioned the word 'wife' she wanted nothing more than to become like him. To play the game and make those who ruined her life pay for the damage they have caused.

She wanted to punish the Lannisters for killing Bran. She wanted nothing more than to see them burn. She wanted to see Joffery choke on his own vomit. She knew that Baelish in some way could make that happen. He could make everything thing she ever wanted come true with the snap of his fingers. If she desired it then it would her's.

Then what? What happens when her end game is complete and then there is nothing left but the two of them? Could something else bind them together? Or would she outgrow her usefulness to him and then what would happen to her? That thought scared her. She had no concept of what her future would be like. When she was younger she knew that her role in life was to marry a wealthy man and rule his home. When Joffery entered her life the idea of becoming Queen was dangled in front of her. When she realized how cruel life would be as Queen, it dashed any concept of what the future for her would be like.

But Baelish was offering her one. A future full of lies and deceits. A future that was based around a game that could possibly get her killed in the process. The question was how she would die? Would it be at the hands of Joffery, the Lannisters or her own husband? The moment he decided that she would no longer be of any use to him, would he snap his fingers and bring about Sansa's downfall?

Lysa Arryn.

That name haunted her. She was the women who came before her. She knew that Baelish loved her mother at one time but she never became his wife. Lysa had. Lysa married Baelish and then she was murdered. Thrown out the moon door by her lover. But that story just didn't make sense to her. Why would Lysa marry, at the time, a low born lord with nothing to his name, unless she loved him? If she loved him then she never would have taken a lover. No lover, no murder. Unless it was her husband who killed her.

“You want me to be your wife?” Sansa asked and she stood dumbfounded in the middle of her father's solar. Baelish looked at her with a naughty smirk. His picked up his coat that was lying on the wooden chair and put it back on. “Do I get any choice in the matter?”

“Of course you have a choice. I told you once that I would never force you into something you don't want. I want to marry you but if you don't want me then you have fooled me and I am not an easy man to fool.” Baelish stated and Sansa looked away. She didn't know what she wanted and it scared her that she was even willing to consider it.

“All of this. The game, the lessons, your body in mine, was so I would marry you?” If that was the case, she felt used. She had only felt that way once in her life and she hated it. She vowed that she would never allow herself to fall victim to such an emotion again. Yet, here she was, not wanting to believe the man who she considered a mentor would do such a thing to her.

“No. All of this. Everything I've taught you and everything I've done to you is because I want to marry you. Why would I invest so much time in you if I was just going to leave you here in the North where you would be no use to anyone? If I had no intention of marry you, I never would have touched you.” Baelish replied. He stepped closer to her and picked up her hands to place a light kiss on them. He never let them go.

“So is that all I am to you? An investment?” She felt insulted by that. She knew that no one would want to marry her because they loved her but instead for what they could gain for an alliance with the North. She wanted to know if Baelish was the same. Was he only interested her by what could gain from her? Here she had fooled herself into believing she was different. “Am I just another one of your whores?”

Baelish looked at her, running this thumb over her knuckles. He was gentle and his eyes explored her's. It was as though he was looking for something. He seemed despondent and unsure. He dropped her hands and placed them on her cheek. He leaned in and kissed her forehead. He moved away from her and sat down in her father's chair.

“It saddens me that you would think that.” He paused searching her eyes hoping to find whatever it was that he was looking for. He sighed and ran his fingers through his black hair. “You are not one of my girls. You are no whore. I told you once that I don't touch my girls and if you were I wouldn't have bedded you. No, you are worth far more than that to me. Talk to me Sansa.”

“About what?” Sansa replied and crossed her arms. While she was moved by his sweet words she wasn't ready to give into him yet. She was stubborn and would fight him until she got all the answers she wanted. Before she agreed to spend her life with him, if she would even agree, she wanted to make sure it was the right choice. Baelish laughed but it came out in a huff more so than an actual laugh. He was frustrated.

“I cannot convince you to marry me if I don't know what the problem is. Please, talk to me Sansa. I am more than willing to ruin, fuck over and dispose of anyone you would ask of me and the least I ask of you is to tell me why you are rejecting me?” There was malicious in his voice similar to the jealousy she heard the day he discovered her father's plan to marry her off to Harrold Hardyng. Unlike the day in the village however, she had no desire to push and tease him. She felt guilty for his anguish and that she was the reason it was caused.

“Lysa Arryn.”

“What?” Baelish was startled. Sansa could tell that out of everything she could have said, his first wife's name was not among them. It was obvious to her that he had not thought of Lysa for a very long time. She wasn't sure if that worried her or if it should bring her some sense of comfort. She realized that she was jealous of Lysa, because she had him first. How could someone be jealous of a ghost?

“Lysa was your wife was she not?” He didn't say anything because she already knew the answer. She stepped closer to him and looked him directly in the eyes. “You married Lysa Arryn and the marriage didn’t even last a year before she died. I want you to tell me how your first wife died.” He was still silent and Sansa could tell that he was weighing his options. He could lie to her but he knew that she would see through that. Baelish wanted to marry her and he knew in order to make that happen he would have to be honest with her.

“She was murdered.”

“By whom?” Sansa’s voice was stern and unwavering. Her eyes were cold and Baelish knew that his answer was critical. He didn’t want to voice the truth aloud. Sansa was growing impatient and huffed. “Who murdered Lysa Arryn, Petyr?” He had asked several times for her to call him by his first name but she always called him Lord Baelish. Part of him knew she did that just to cause a reaction out of him. However, hearing her use his first name in such a manner worried him but he still wanted a lifetime of it.

“I did.” Suddenly the ice broke and all Sansa could think to do was laugh. It wasn’t a happy laugh but more of a hysterical one. She ran her hands through her red hair and turned away from Baelish. She continued to laugh and every time she looked at him it caused her to laugh harder. He just stood there staring at her, completely unsure on how he should proceed. He was used to crying women, a side effect of owning a brothel, but this was something completely new to him. “Sansa?” He reached out but she backed away from him.

“How can you expect me to marry you when you just admitted that you murdered your first wife?” Sansa asked. Her eyes were wide with complete disbelief. “What happens when I suddenly start to bore you? Will you kill me too? Will I have to go to bed every night wondering if I will wake up in the morning?” Baelish looked at her with concern. Slowly he walked over to her and she didn’t back away. He placed his arms on her shoulders and looked at her directly in the eye.

“I understand you concern. I really do but let me ask you something.” Baelish paused and continued to rub soothing circles on her arm. “If you had the perfect moment to kill Joffery Baratheon, would you take it? If you saw Joffery standing on an edge of a wall or a moon door, would you push him without a second thought?” Sansa knew the answer. She knew that if she had the opportunity, she would gladly push Joffery to his death. Sansa nodded her head and Baelish smiled for a moment.

“Yes. I would.”

“Then I want you to understand something Sweetling. I loved your mother more than you could ever know. The night I challenged your uncle, I lay feverish and sickly because he nearly killed me. Your mother never came to by bedside. Not once. Lysa did however and in my feverish mind I thought she was Catelyn.” Sansa never knew this. She never knew this part of the story. She knew that there had been a duel, Baelish lost and her mother begged for his life. It was a story straight out of a fairytale but the aftermath was so much darker than Sansa realized. “I bedded her. I bedded her and I thought she was her sister. I thought she was your mother. Once my fever broke, I realized what I had done and I was……she took something from me and I hated her for it.”

“But you married her? If you hated her so much why would you marry her?” It made very little sense to Sansa. Why on earth would he marry someone he hated? She knew that he wasn’t forced into the marriage and he accepted his vows on his own accord.

“I needed the Vale, so I put myself in a position where I could have it.” Baelish replied and he looked directly at her. Suddenly everything clicked in her mind. Jon Arryn and the suspicious circumstances of his death. Lysa Arryn being pushed out the moon door. Everything pointed back to Baelish.

“You killed them both? Jon and Lysa? Why?”

“I didn’t murder Jon Arryn. Lysa did. I may have planted the idea in her mind. I may have given her the poison and I may have orchestrated his death but I didn’t officially kill Jon Arryn. I did however kill his wife.” Sansa just continued to stare at him. “As I was saying, you wouldn’t hesitate to kill Joffery if you had the chance. Lysa is my Joffery. I used Lysa until I couldn’t use her anymore and then I got rid of her.”

Sansa put herself into his position. If she had the opportunity to drain Joffery of everything he was worth and then end his life, she would do it. She hated him to the point that the sound of his name caused her sight to go red. It made her blood run cold and for any hope for her to return to the person she had been as gone. If Baelish felt the same for Lysa, could she fault him? Could she truly hate him for taking revenge on his stolen innocence? If she did then she would be nothing but a hypocrite.

“What of Jon Arryn? What purpose did his death serve?”

“He was looking into things I would have preferred him to stay out of. He was looking into who the father of Cersei’s children were. I needed the king to be carless, something Cersei was very good at causing him to be. If Cersei was removed then it would have been far more difficult for me to bankrupt the Seven Kingdoms. Therefore, Jon Arryn needed to be removed and I wanted the Vale under my control for a time being. Two birds. One stone. Killing Lysa was just a bonus.”

“You bankrupted the Seven Kingdoms? Why? How has no one figured that out?” Sansa was stunned. While she was still reeling from the knowledge that he murdered Lysa, that news made more sense to her. It was the magnitude of Baelish’s dealings that completely shocked her. She knew he was dangerous and she knew that the game he played was dangerous but never before had she realized just how far he would go to achieve what he wanted.

“I'm very good at covering my tracks.” His smirked reappeared and Sansa could tell that he was very pleased with himself. “I needed a few high born families to be in my pocket and what better way to achieve such a goal than to save high born families from financial ruin. The last year has been very beneficial for me.” Baelish said no more and Sansa knew he wasn't going to go into further detail. “I want you to understand that I killed Lysa because I had the opportunity and it was something I had desired since I was a fifteen year old boy. I would never do that to you. You mean so much than some pawn in my game. If you married me, you would be my equal. Okay?”

Sansa knew she was fighting a losing battle. No matter what her doubts and fears were, she knew that she wanted him. Her fears about Lysa were justified. He didn't just kill her in order to gain control of the Vale. Baelish desire for Lysa's death was based out of the same hate and fury that she felt in regards to Joffery. Sansa couldn't fault him for that. While Jon Arryn meant something to her father, he meant nothing to her. She never even met the man. The financial ruin of the Seven Kingdoms was an ingenious move in his game. When I was at Highgarden I was able to broker a match between the prince and one Margaery Tryrell. He told her father that the very first night he spent at Winterfell. He spent the last year putting people into places where they would be useful to him and she admired him for that.

“Okay.” Her voice was low. Baelish moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her middle. He placed his chin on her shoulder and Sansa couldn't help but lean into him. She wouldn't deny that the feel of his arms holding her brought comfort to her. He kissed her shoulder causing her to let out a small sigh.

“Why do I feel as though there is more worrying you than Lysa?” Baelish asked. She stayed silent, not really knowing how to answer him. Was there other things bothering her? Of course. She just didn't know how she wanted to tell him. She didn't want to be afraid. She didn't want to be a victim, but that was how she felt. Sansa was a victim and it severely infuriated her. “What is it Sweetling?”

“Joffery.” Her voice was low and if he wasn't listening for a response, he would have missed it. He turned her around in his arms and kissed the top of her head again. Baelish placed his hands on the side of her shoulders and gave a comforting squeeze.

“If you accept me as your husband, you will have all the privileges that I have. You would not be my prisoner but my partner in the game, in everything. I will teach you everything I know and the world will be yours. You will have all the freedom you could want. The riches, the power, the land and one day, if I play my cards correctly, armies would all be yours.” Baelish paused. He raised one of his hands from her shoulder to her cheek. He grazed his thumb over her cheekbone. “Among all of that you would have my protection. I vow that I will never allow him to touch you again.”

Baelish's voice was deadly and Sansa knew that he would do everything his power to keep her safe. If anyone even threatened her, she knew that he would make sure they paid for it. If he had the power to bankrupt the Seven Kingdoms, murder the hand of the king and have no one be any the wiser, he would be able to keep her safe. Her fears about Lysa faded away and she knew that if she was going to align herself with anyone, it was to be this man.

If she turned away from him now, never to look back, her parents would still find her a husband. No one would ever be able to compare to him. No other man would be able to give her the things he promised. He was a risk and a gamble but if the risk was high enough, the higher the reward would be. The idea of joining her name with his still scared her but at least she knew her marriage bed would be anything but dull. After having him, Sansa wasn't sure she would be able to allow herself to have anyone else.

Sansa pressed herself to him and locked her lips with his. They molded perfectly together. It was a light kiss and playful. She could feel Baelish smile against her lips. She almost wanted to wipe that smile off his face. He knew he had won and like most men, he was smug at his victory.

“So does this mean I have a new bride?” His tone was light. His hands moved to her hips and brought her close to him. Sansa wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She bit her lip coyly and let out a small giggle. She felt like a girl again, dreaming what her future would be like. The only difference was the future she dreamed of now was full of revenge and the most unlikely of husbands. “If you continue to bite that lip, I just might have to do it for you.”

“Then bite it.”

Baelish crushed his lips to her's and turned her so she was pinned up against the stone wall. The kiss was rough and she was sure she wasn't able to get any closer to him. Their tongues battled for dominance, a battle she knew she was losing. When they broke apart Baelish kissed his way down her neck and along her collar bone. Eventually he stopped and rested his head against her shoulder. His breathing was heavily. She kissed his head but he wasn't letting her go, not that she minded.

“If you didn't need to find your way back to your chambers I would throw you back on that desk and fuck you again. However, it would be unfortunate for Ned or your brother to decide to visit the solar and see me having my way with you.”

With that, Baelish let her go with a gentle kiss to her lips. Sansa moved from him and went over to the desk. She leaned against the desk and propped herself up on the desk so she was sitting on it. Sansa crooked her finger at him, asking him to come to her. He walked slowly over to her and placed his hands on either side of her. He raised an eyebrow at her and a leer was firmly in place. Sansa reached behind her and grabbed the mockingbird pin that was placed on the desk. She held it up with a small smirk.

“Keep it.” He whispered but Sansa shook her head.

“Without this pin, you might as well be naked, not that I would mind of course.” She teased. She unhooked the pin and placed it on the collar of his coat, where it belonged. “When I become your wife, I expect to have one just like it.” That caused Baelish to kiss her again, fiercely. With that she slid off the desk and headed toward the door. When she reached the door she turned back with a smirk. “You might have convinced me to marry you but you still have to convince my father.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, I want you all to know a few things. Yes. Petyr was behind the financial ruin of the Seven Kingdoms. Someone commented on one of the earlier chapters asking what Petyr has been doing for the last year if he was not in KL. Well, he has been brokering deals and placing himself in a very pretty position.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our systems are still down and I have nothing better or productive that I could be doing. My boss is play cards with another attorney. Seriously. They are playing war. Two attorneys are playing war. It's hilarious. When I actually get around to going to law school maybe they will let me join in on the fun. LOL

The dawn cam early. Sansa lingered in bed as the sun rose and caused an orange hue to drape across the sky. She slept peacefully the night before, even though she crawled into bed at a rather late hour. Once the adrenaline left her body and she fell into the furs, she drifted off easily. As she slept she could still hear the sound of the wedding feast continuing on, floors below her. Occasionally she would hear a shout or a cheer that would rouse her but for the most part her sleep was deep. However, once the sun rose and the light shined through her window, Sansa was drawn from her slumber.

While she was awake, she felt no need to pull herself from the warm and comfort of her bed. After a night of weddings and feast, most of Winterfell would still be abed. Sansa was comfortable and she could have lounged there for the rest of day but she knew it was inevitable that she would have to rouse herself from her bed, just not yet.

Sansa's mind began to wonder to the night before. Theon and Jeyne married but it wasn't the ceremony that stood out in her mind. It wasn't even the thought of how her back felt against the wood of her father's desk as she allowed Baelish to completely defile her, although that wasn't far from her mind either. No, the thoughts that filled her mind was that she was to be married. For so long so she dreamed of being a bride and walking down a snow covered path to her white knight. That dreamed ended long ago but here she lay, almost an engaged women.

The most ironic thing to Sansa was that Baelish wasn't a white knight. He was the farthest thing from a white knight as he could possibly achieve. He was no hero like in the songs. If anything he was the villain in the black hat who plotted the downfall of those heroes she used to love. Sansa realized now that heroes rarely became the victors. If she planned to achieve everything she wanted to in her life, being a hero would get her nowhere. Sansa wouldn’t become the princess the players sang about. Instead she was becoming the wicked witch the fairytales loved to condemn. What surprised Sansa the most was how much she yearned for that darkness.

The old Sansa would have condemned him for the deaths of Jon and Lysa Arryn and the countless lives he had ruined by bankrupting the Seven Kingdoms. Now she understood it. He was willing to do anything in order to get what he wanted. He had the patience and skill to slowly bring about the fall of those he deemed to be his foes. She wouldn't want to be on the end of his anger or one of his schemes. She never would be, she would be his partner and he would help her watch the world burn. 

She was no longer the Sansa who dreamed of the happily ever after. The old Sansa never would have allowed a man such as Baelish to take her in her father's solar, on his desk as she arched against him. The old Sansa would have waited for her wedding night to allow the faceless stranger she built up in her mind to have her maidenhead. She would have been more like Jeyne, a blind and senseless fool.

Sansa never wanted to be that person again.

When a knock sounded on her door Sansa groaned. A few more knocks proceeded and the handle turned allowing Catelyn to step into her daughter's chambers to rouse her. She stepped over to the bed and drew the furs back. Sansa groaned again in discontent but made no movements as her mother pulled the pillow out from under her head.

“Theon and Jeyne will be departing shortly and Jeyne wants to say goodbye.” Catelyn replied. While Sansa normally was an early riser, Catelyn wasn't surprised that her daughter seemed reluctant to climb out of bed after a night of feasts and celebrations, if that wedding is what she would refer to as a celebration. “How much did you drink last night?”

“A half a glass of wine.” Sansa replied truthfully. She didn’t drink much as a general rule. It wasn’t just the advice Baelish had given her at one point but she really was not a fan of wine. She could not understand the appeal to overly drinking something that would change your perception. “And I don’t want to see them off.” She saw Jeyne and Theon marry the night before and she was perfectly fine with that being the last interaction she had with the couple.

“You drank less than your father and he is still down in the courtyard to see them off. Up. You also have your lessons with Septa Mordane this morning so no lounging in bed today.” With that Catelyn pulled the sleeping girl up and out of bed. “I will call the servants for a bath.”

“No!” Sansa stated loudly, causing Catelyn to startle. She looked at her daughter in confusion and Sansa had to think of an excuse quickly. “Later. I will bathe later. I’m sure there are those who need it far worse than I do. Robb drank a fair bit last night and could probably use it far more than I. I wouldn’t want to put the servants out. I can wait.” The words tumbled out in a rush, causing to Catelyn to look at her daughter suspiciously.

“Alright. Dress and we will see you in the courtyard. Jeyne is most excited to be on their way.” Catelyn stated. Her voice held a disbelieving tone. While Sansa was never cruel to the servants or looked down upon them, she never went out of her way to make their job easier. With one last concerned look, Catelyn left the girl’s chambers.

It wasn’t that Sansa would hate a bath, she just wasn’t ready to be rid of him yet. She could still feel him lingering on her skin. If she bathed now, she would be rid of that and she didn’t know when their next moment alone would occur. She had agreed to marry him and knew that she would have the rest of her life to feel him on her skin, but rest of her life was a long way off. She was just not ready to let go of that yet. The memory was still fresh in her mind that it almost burned.

Sansa dressed slowly. On an occasion she would wince from moving too quickly. Her body was not used to the previous night’s activities. It wasn’t a painful ache but one that brought a smile to her lips. Walking was slightly uncomfortable as was sitting down. She also noticed a bruise that was in the shape of a handprint on her hip. If she had indeed allowed her mother to call for a bath, it was certain that a servant girl would have seen the mark. By the time she would have informed Baelish, she rumor would have spread throughout Winterfell that even attempting to bribe the servant into silence would have been pointless.

Once Sansa was completely dressed, she left her chambers in order to make her way to the courtyard. Once again guards were posted closer to her chambers and whenever she turned a corner, there seemed to be someone there watching. She huffed in annoyance. One day those precautions would be useless because she would be his wife and he could what he pleased with her. The thought was thrilling.

If Father allows you to marry him. That thought was depressing. She knew that Ned would be far from happy to allow such a thing. He was distrustful of Baelish and if she was completely honest, he was wise to do so. Baelish himself admitted that he was not a good man and the things he had done and said to her the night before only confirmed that. Sansa also knew that something as trivial as parent consent would not prevent him from taking the bride he so desired.

When Sansa pushed open the oak doors that led out into the courtyard, she could feel the difference in the weather. It was far warmer than the day before and it wasn’t for some obvious storm damage, she never would have guessed that the weather had been less than forgiving. She saw that some servants and guards were preparing for the newlyweds departure. Guards would be traveling to the port that housed the boat that would sail to Iron Islands with Theon and Jeyne in order to make sure they arrived safely before returning to Winterfell.

Sansa looked through the swarm of people and she spotted Baelish standing near the carriage that she assumed would house Jeyne and a few maids during their travels. Theon of course would be riding his horse alongside the guards. A welcome relief from Jeyne, she supposed. Baelish was standing with her father and they appeared to be deep in discussion.

“Sansa!” Jeyne called from inside the carriage. Jeyne pushed through the door and went sprinting toward the other girl. When Sansa’s name was called, Baelish’s head turned and he caught her eye his hand instinctively reached for his clothed neck. She could tell that he was making a circular motion and there was a satisfied leer on his lips. Sansa returned the smirk but it didn’t last long as she felt someone practically collide into her. Jeyne forcefully wrapped her arms around the taller girl’s neck that it almost made her stumble off of her feet. “I’m going to miss you!”

“I will miss -.” Sansa’s lie was cut off before she was even able to utter her thoughts.

“I mean you were my best friend here and now we are to be separated! It will be so weird here without me around. I hope you don’t get lonely.” Suddenly a thought occurred to the new bride and her face lit up like a freshly lit candle. “Perhaps you can foster with us for a few months! I’m sure your father would allow it! I mean Theon is practically your brother and you’re my best friend! Once we arrive at the Iron Island and are settled I will make some inquires!”

There was no way in seven hells that Ned would allow his daughter to spend a moment of unchaperoned time in the Iron Islands. Not that she even wanted to go there at all. She hoped that by the time Baelish was finished collecting the taxes for the North, she would be a married women making her way to King’s Landing. While the thought of King’s Landing still terrified her, knowing that Baelish would move all the Seven Kingdoms in order to protect brought her some comfort.

“Jeyne, I –“

“Oh, Theon has finally arrived! After last night I wasn’t sure if he would rise at all.” A blush appeared on Jeyne’s face and she let out a small giggle. “I really shouldn’t be speaking about such things to you should I? Well you will completely understand once you are married. It’s fantastic I assure you.” Sansa wasn’t so certain how fantastic Theon would be. “I really should see how he is fairing, leaving his home and all.” Jeyne stood on her toes and kissed Sansa on the cheek before running off in the direction of her new husband. “I’ll write soon.”

Sansa huffed in frustration. She was forcefully pulled from her bed in order to be brushed off by someone she didn’t even like. She wasn’t used to people brushing her aside. The only person who had done so was Joffery and she was forced to accept his treatment. He was a prince after all. However, it felt more insulting for Jeyne to do such a thing to her. Granted she had not been a very good friend to her as of late and it was partially her fault she was being banished to the Iron Islands. Although from how she was acting, Jeyne didn’t seem too saddened by the prospect. Not wanting to stand there looking like a fool, Sansa frustratingly walked toward her father and Baelish.

“A trip to Bear Island wouldn’t be prudent. I already know their financial status won’t be able to cover the taxes that they owe. We would be traveling for days only to come right back empty handed. It would be wiser to send a raven stating that Winterfell will cover the taxes.” Ned stated in a strained voice. While Sansa knew that her father was relieved that Theon would be away from Winterfell, she could see that he was still stressed about the state of the North.

“While it might be easier to send a raven and possibly save time, I wouldn't say it is a wise decision. You've already paid most of Deepwood's taxes, against my counsel and if you pay Bear Island's as well, Winterfell might be bankrupt within a year.” Baelish pursed his lips and Sansa could tell that her father's need to always do the right thing was causing a strain on Baelish. “I would advise you to focus on Winterfell and let the Mormont's worry about Bear Island.”

“Despite the actions of Ser Jorah, the Mormonts are good people.” Ned replied looking at Baelish as though he was heartless. Sansa couldn't help but agree with Baelish. Why should her family suffer because of her father's honor? While she knew that the reason the North was in this predicament was because Baelish felt the need to bankrupt the Seven Kingdoms, it would be on her father’s conscience if her family declined in status.

“The Starks are good people too. Tell me, which family would you rather save?” Ned scowled at the smaller man but didn't reply. They turned to see Sansa nearing them. Neither gentleman seemed overly pleased with the other. She wondered how her father was impacting whatever scheme Baelish had up his sleeve. It was obvious that Ned wasn't doing what Baelish wanted him to do.

“Perhaps we shall discuss this later. Come to my solar once they leave through the King's Gate. I'll make sure Robb is in attendance.” Ned said with annoyance. He just wanted this entire day to be over, for Theon would be gone and for this tax issue to resolve itself. However that was not likely.

“Yes. Your solar. A wonderful place to discuss business.” Baelish stated with a satisfied leer upon his face. Sansa could feel her heat up and if her father had not been in attendance, she would have given Baelish a lecture. While she would always look back on that memory with pleasure, she did not need Baelish making innuendos to her father because one day he might just figure out what exactly happened in his solar. With a wide smug smile Baelish turned to her. “Lady Sansa.” He stated in greeting.

“Lord Baelish.” She looked at him directly in the eye. Sansa was silently telling him to behave which of course only made his leer grow wider. He was enjoying himself and there was nothing Sansa could do to put an end to it. While the proper side of her wanted to scold him for his thoughts, because she knew exactly what he was thinking, the naughtier side wanted to relish in their little escapade. With that Baelish took his leave causing Sansa to watch his back retreat.

“Sansa.” She shook herself and looked at her father who was watching her intently. “Are you alright?”

“Yes. Sorry. I'm exhausted. I was up late last night what with the wedding and all.” While all of that was true, Sansa was up late but it had very little to do with the wedding. “Mother pulled me out of bed in order to see Jeyne off. If it wasn't for that I would still be asleep.” Ned smiled gently at her. He couldn't see anything other than his little girl. He could not imagine the small child he raised doing some of the things she had done, or what she let Baelish do to her.

“I'm sure you can fall back asleep once they leave.” Ned stated with a warm smile. Sansa laughed and wrapped her arms around herself.

“I wish. I have a lesson with Septa Mordane and I'm sure I'm going to have to drag Arya out of bed.” Ned laughed lightly and agreed. They both knew that Arya was not going to be pleased about being dragged from her warm slumber. She wasn't exactly sure what her sister got up to after the wedding but she was certain that it involved pointy objects and a Master at Arms. “Was what Lord Baelish saying true, about the North?”

“Don't worry about that. I'll take care of it.” Ned leaned in and kissed her forehead before walking away. She watched him leave and it infuriated her. If she would have asked Baelish, he would have at least been honest with her if he had to withhold that information. He never would have brushed her off and told her not to worry as though she was small minded. She looked over and saw Jeyne holding her mother tightly in an embrace. Mrs. Poole was weeping and Sansa could tell it would be a few moments before they would depart. Everyone else seemed ready to leave but Jeyne was holding everything up, as usual.

Sansa decided that there was no point in spending more time outside when she really didn't care when they left, just that they did. She entered the castle and started to make her way toward the staircase when Theon, who followed her inside, stopped her in her tracks. She took him in and for the first time in years, he didn't reek of wine or ale. He looked worn and exhausted but that could have been from over excreting himself on his wedding night. While he might not like his bride, he wasn't going to waste a perfect opportunity to lay between a woman's legs.

“It just infatuates you that he still treats you like a child, doesn’t it?” Theon stated and his voice was rough. His eyes were cold and angry. Ever since she told Theon to take his advances elsewhere instead of focusing on Jeyne, he looked at her with this cold disdain that sent shivers down her spine. Then that fury only escalated. While the guards being present everywhere she turned, annoyed her, at least she knew that the chances of Theon getting her alone was unlikely. She looked around the entrance hall and they were along. The guards seemed to be preoccupied outside.

“What do you want Theon?” Sansa asked. She did not want to deal with him. She wanted him to be on his horse and on the King's Road heading toward the port that would take him to the Iron Islands. This was one of the reasons on why she wanted to stay in her bed, dreaming about Baelish's body inside of her's, not harassed by someone she felt repulsed by.

“I want to know how you did it.” Theon hissed. She could tell that he had been holding in his anger at her since the moment she and Luwin entered the apothecary. He blamed her for his banishment and for the fact that he was now a married man. If he was not about to leave Winterfell forever, she might have been worried about his actions. “How did you know where we were?”

“I don't know what you are talking about Theon.” Sansa attempted to move her way around him but he grabbed her wrist. His grip was tight and he pulled her backward. Sansa thought for a moment that he might break her wrist. She jerked her hand hoping that it would allow her to break lose but it only caused Theon to squeeze her wrist harder. “Let go, you're hurting me.”

“I want to know how you did it.” Theon stated through clenched teeth. Sansa attempted again to pull her wrist away from him but he wasn't letting go. A third hand suddenly gripped Theon's wrist and Sansa looked to see Baelish standing so close to Theon and herself the scent of mint reached her nostrils.

“I would advise that you let go of Lady Sansa.” His voice was low and deadly. His eyes held a deadly fury that she had never seen before. His gaze never waived from Theon's. “Because if you don't, I will make sure that you never make it to the Iron Islands. An accident is easy to arrange.” Theon looked at Baelish and then at Sansa. A small smirk appeared on his lips and he squeezed just a bit harder. Sansa whimpered at the pain and tried again to pull her wrist free.

“I get it now. Tell me Lord Baelish how long was it before she opened her legs for you?” Theon asked and Baelish's anger increased. “Because if I knew she was that easy I would have attempted to taste that sweet nectar a long time ago. I figured she was too much of a frigid bitch.” Baelish didn't respond instead he stared daggers at Theon. After a moment, Theon let go of her hand which she cradled to her chest. Theon scowled at the two of them. “At least I got my answer.” With that Theon turned and left the entrance hall. Baelish took Sansa's wrist into his hand gently. Is fingers ran over the red mark that was forming on her white skin. Is fingers ran over the red mark that was forming on her white skin. His touch was soothing and gentle.

“Are you alright?” Baelish asked in a calm voice. While his tone was reassuring, his eyes told a different story. They were hard and stony. She could see the fury leaking behind his perfectly crafted mask. In that moment Sansa realized that if anything ever happened to at the hands of another, Baelish would make sure that they paid dearly. He really was a dangerous man but he was her dangerous man and that made her feel powerful. He would do just about anything she asked of him. “It looks like your wrist will bruise but nothing more serious than that.”

“I’m fine. I will go see Maester Luwin. I’m sure he will have something that will be able to help with the soreness.” She knew he was deadly serious about arranging an accident for Theon and while she didn’t like the man, she didn’t want him dead. She still remembered the small child he used to be. She remembered how curious he used to be and how he would explore Winterfell’s grounds with Robb and Jon. “Don’t do anything. Let him go.”

“What?”

“Theon. Let him go. He will live out his life on the Iron Islands and we will never hear from him again.” Her voice a gentle and Baelish searched her eyes. “Don’t kill him. Not for this.” Sansa reached up and took his face in her hands. She looked at him directly in the eyes and asked him again. “Don’t kill him. He is gone and not our problem.” She glanced around and when she was certain that they were alone, she kissed him lightly.

“Is that what you really want?” Baelish asked. He didn’t want to simply let Theon live his life far away from her. Theon touched her and that was something he couldn’t stand that that. But Sansa was asking him to have mercy and he was slowly learning that he wouldn’t be able to deny her anything. She could see his resolve in regards to her wishes. She knew that he did not like the idea of simply letting Theon go but if she wished it, Baelish would grant it.

“Yes, it is.” She kissed him one last time and Baelish rested his head against her forehead. 

“Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter isn't everything that I had hoped. I knew I needed to establish a small part of what will happen in the next chapter, I needed Theon gone and I wanted one last confrontation between Theon and Sansa. Plus Sansa's reflection on the night before.
> 
> Anyway, share your thoughts with me!


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're seeing this right. Two chapters in one day. Perhaps my system at work should fail more often. LOL
> 
> It was difficult for me to decide how I wanted this chapter to go. It would not flow well in Sansa's POV, therefore, we get a rare glimpse into Petyr's. It won't happen often but their may be a few chapters here and there that are like this.

Petyr Baelish leaned back in the wooden chair with a satisfied smirk gracing his lips. He crossed his legs and tilted his head to the side, taking in the view. Ned was sitting behind his desk reviewing the financial status of Bear Island and all Baelish could imagine was how Sansa looked when her back arched off the desk as he defiled her. Watching Ned work was so much more amusing with the knowledge that the Lord of Winterfell knew nothing of the debauchery that took place at his desk.

Robb sat in the chair next to Baelish and looked concerned. Baelish had always assumed that the young lord would follow in the footsteps of his father but he was surprised to learn that Robb agreed with Baelish in regards to the North’s finances. Robb also thought it would be foolish to allow Winterfell to pay the taxes for Bear Island. Of course Robb had said the same thing for the entirety of the North but Ned wouldn’t listen. He was stubborn and would be willing to bankrupt his own family in order to protect his honor and pride. Ned felt that he was doing the right thing but in reality he was just being foolish.

He looked over to Robb and measured him. He never really thought of the young lord outside of the part he would play in his game. Now as he looked at him and learned Robb’s capabilities, he would be a far better Lord of Winterfell than his father. Perhaps he would be far more useful than Baelish had originally anticipated. He wasn’t willing to alter his course completely but Baelish knew that Ned would be reluctant to follow his advice and he would have work with a backup plan.

Baelish was always well prepared. While he had hoped that Ned would act in one manner he was more than prepared for the outcome of Ned’s reluctance to follow his advice. He had never met Ned before coming to the North but he had known Brandon. If Ned was anything like his older brother, then Baelish knew that once Ned was instilled with an idea, changing his mind would never happen. In that case Baelish would be forced to work around Ned and possibly lose gold in the process. Gold was easy to come by for him and it would be easy to regain his losses, he just hated having to do so.

Sansa. It really all boiled down to her as he always knew it would. She was key. She may not be the heir to Winterfell but she was the key to the North. Baelish always knew that he would marry her, long before he even came to the North. Taking her for a bride was essential. The only thing he hadn't anticipated was actually growing fond of her. He had heard stories of her throughout King’s Landing, some which he knew to be false but the stories of her beauty and her worth rang true. He never expect to find the fire and quick wit behind that beautiful face, something he soon relished in.

So he tested her. He wanted to see what she would be willing to do. When the hiccup with Harrold Hardyng arose, he wanted to see what she was made of. So he let her decide her own fate. If she chose Hardyng, he would have had her married to the young falcon and allowed her to bear his child. Once an offspring was produced, there would be no need for Hardyng and he would find a way to be rid of him, something he knew Sansa would have had a hand in. Baelish then, after a time, would marry the Lady of the Vale, as he had once before. However, Sansa did not choose that path, much Baelish’s delight. He knew he would not have liked the idea of Sansa being married to that brainless twit but he would have dealt with it until he didn’t have to anymore.

When Sansa told him he held no desire to become Lady of the Vale, Baelish felt a sense of relief rush through him. No. He didn’t want another man to touch her. She belonged to him and only him. So he started to mold and fuck her into the women he knew she was destined to become. He came to the North to collect a bride but Baelish knew he would be leaving with a consort who would possibly be the best investment of his life.

“Traveling to Bear Island would be a waste of resources when we know the outcome. I will make the necessary arrangements to have the gold be paid from Winterfell’s fund. We then can focus our efforts on Greywater. That journey will take several days and far more resources.” Ned stated and tossed his quill on the desk. The lines in his forehead creased in worry. Baelish could tell that he was concerned which was exactly where he wanted him. A man who was concerned and frightful was far easier to maneuver than someone who was self-assured.

“While I agree it would be a waste of resources to travel to Bear Island, paying their taxes is an expense that Winterfell simply cannot afford.” Robb stated diplomatically. His tone was controlled but Baelish could see the frustration behind his words. “Who knows how long it would take to regain the gold we would lose. Our family might fall in the meantime.”

“So you’re proposing we let the Mormonts fall? Lose their home? How many servants would lose their lively hood to support their families? How many of them would die?” Ned stated and Robb sighed. Baelish could tell he was weighing the two evils in his head. Ned was correct, all those terrible things would happen if the Mormonts were unable to pay their taxes. The Iron Bank was a cruel being and couldn't care less about people’s lively hoods, something Baelish made sure he capitalized on. However, that fate was bound to happen to someone and if Ned insisted on saving the Mormonts, it was possible that the Starks would lose everything. “You want to send them to the same fate as the Boltons?” 

“I severely doubt that the Mormonts will meet the same fate as the Boltons. They may go bankrupt but they are not a cruel lot. Their servants will not skin them alive as Roose and his bastard were.” Baelish stated with a wave of his hand, as though completely dismissing Ned’s concerns. “They could end up in the same predicament as the Greyjoys. They could still have their home but their lands would be completely seized by the Iron Bank. They wouldn’t be able to afford servants and life would be very difficult but not life or death. The servants would find work in houses that are more financially secure.”

“Wishful thinking but something I am not willing to risk.”

“Well if that is your decision, you are Lord of Winterfell.” Baelish stated with a grim smile. He knew this was coming and had planned for it. “If you are set on squandering Winterfell’s income then you best be prepared to regain those loses.” Baelish stated and Robb shifted his full attention to the Master of Coin. Baelish was pleased to see it because Robb’s input and decision was key.

“And how do you propose we achieve that?” Ned huffed. He tapped fingers in irritation and leaned back into his chair. Baelish smiled wickedly as his mind flashed to Sansa's beautiful body against that desk. If he wasn't so sure that Ned would have him murdered on the spot and if it wouldn't hurt Sansa, he would love to goad a reaction out of him. 

“A marriage contract.” 

“Excuse me?” Ned's eyes narrowed and his skin turned slightly redder. Baelish knew the man was suspicious of him. While he didn't outright tell Ned of his interest in his daughter, he made it no secret that he had grown fond of Sansa. He mentioned on an occasion how beautiful she was or how intelligent she turned out to be. Once he even stated that he expected her to be like her mother but was pleasantly surprised at how different they were. He told him nothing concrete but enough to get Ned's slow mind turning. 

“Our young Robb is of marrying age. Winterfell would benefit from an alliance with another great house. He has to marry eventually and now would be a perfect time to do so.” Baelish stated and he knew that both Stark men would be taken aback by suggestion. Ned relaxed for a moment but Robb seemed perplexed. It seemed that the young lord never gave any real thought to marriage. It was simply an abstract concept to him. 

“Do you have someone in mind?” Robb asked. His voice hallow but curious. Perfect. Baelish knew that Robb would be hesitant but he would do his duty and marry much like his father before him had. He wasn't well traveled and had not been fostered in another home, so a marriage would have to be made through negotiations and not out of romantic gestures. 

“When I was visiting the Twins, Walder Frey was very ill and it was clear that he would be passing on before the year was out.” Lies. “I got to know his son, Stevron fairly well and he mentioned that he was hoping to marry off his sisters quickly.” Half-truth. “You Starks are a prominent family, I'm sure Stevron would be more than willing to discuss negotiations. I could help you broker such a match. The winter has been rather kind to the Freys. Their financial status is more than suitable.” Baelish had made sure of it. 

“And how would this match help the North?” Ned asked. 

“The Crossing. Stevron is new to his title and most likely will agree any marriage contract if it meant to be rid of one of his sisters. I'm sure I could negotiate an impressive dowry. You could either take a large amount in a lump sum or take a smaller sum and demand a certain percentage of the toll they collect from those who cross at the Twins. I would suggest the latter. Far more profitable in the long run.”

“And you would be willing help arrange such a match?” Ned asked with slight contempt in his voice. He didn't trust Baelish and did not believe that he was willing to help broker the marriage contract without some kind of compensation in return. 

“Yes.” 

“What do they look like? Does he have a specific sister in mind or would I be able to choose?” Robb asked. He looked at Baelish and he seemed so young in that moment. It was the first time that Robb truly showed his youth to him. He acted the part of a man, a true heir to Winterfell. It was obvious that the death of his younger brother and having to assume the role of Lord while his parents grieved really took a toll on him. He was an impressive young man but one with so much growing to do.

“I'm certain that Stevron would allow you have your pick of whichever sister would please you.” Baelish stated and he was being honest. While Walder Frey was in perfect health when he visited the Twins, he knew the man would be on his death bed soon enough. Stevron wasn't a smart man but he was a greedy one. It wasn't difficult to convince Stevron and Walder's new wife to slowly poison the older man. It wasn't difficult to acquire such a poison. It wasn't difficult to make Stevron feel as though he was in Baelish's debt. A debt he planed on collecting. Walder Frey had been an intelligent but cruel man; a man not easily manipulated. Stevron Frey was a fool. Kill the man's father, pull the Twins out of debt, make the promise to marry off one of his sisters to a high lord and Baelish was golden in his eyes. “But I will be honest, they are not what most would consider beauties.”

“I see.” Robb looked constricted as though he was residing himself to having an ugly wife. Baelish felt for the boy because he knew that sinking feeling. He had agreed to marry Lysa Arryn once upon a time. While Baelish knew his marriage was only temporary, Robb was considering a long life with such a woman.   
“There is one of his sisters though. Roslin is not a great beauty but still very pretty. A small woman around your sister's age, Sansa I mean. Not Arya. Roslin is sweet a bit shy but very kind. She looks nothing like her father but favors her late mother, Bethany Rosby.” Baelish stated and he saw the small smile appear on his lips. “When I leave for King's Landing I will have to pass through the Twins, come with me, you and your father. We can broker such a deal then.” 

“Father?” 

“It would be something to consider.” Ned stated, still not believe everything that Baelish was feeding them. He could see no reason how Baelish would benefit from arranging a match between Robb and Roslin Frey, if that was the sister he chose. Ned knew that Baelish was very talented when it came to matters of coin and he was in the North to do a job. However, it seemed to Ned that Baelish was going above and beyond what was expected of him. It made Ned suspicious. Men like Baelish do not make such gestures out of the kindness of his heart. Strings would always be attached. 

“Of course there is another option.” Baelish smirked. “If you are completely decided to pay the Mormont's and any everyone else's taxes, the dowry and gold you would receive from the Crossing's toll would be enough to help rebuild Winterfell's financial security, after a time. It would take several years and possibly long after you are in Winterfell's crypt for it to reach it's splendor again.” Baelish paused letting the despair and reluctance sink in. “However, if a third party would be willing to pay the taxes on your behalf, then it would only take a year at most for Winterfell and the North as a whole to regain it's status.” 

“And who exactly would be willing to do such a thing?” A disbelieving smile appeared Ned's face. He leaned forward and placed his elbows on the wooden desk in front of him, linking his calloused hands together. Baelish couldn't help but form a leer on his lips as Ned rested against the exact same place his daughter had called out Baelish's name as he fucked her. 

“I would pay all 40,000 gold dragons of your debt if you would allow me have the honor of Sansa's hand in marriage.” It was as though the air had been sucked out of the room. Neither Baelish nor Ned broke eye contact. Robb was looking between the two of them, not certain if he heard Baelish correctly or not. Ned was unwavering but Baelish wasn't one to back down easily. He lost one duel with a Stark a long time ago and he knew one way or another, he would not lose this one. 

“No deal.” 

It was the response that Baelish had been expecting. He knew Ned would not be willing to hand over his precious child to a man such at himself. He was prepared for this. He had planned for it. The morning after he arrived at Winterfell, before Sansa left her chambers to wave goodbye to him, he sent a raven to King’s Landing. The letter that the raven carried told King Robert that he had arrived safely and that he would be sure to do his duty. He also carefully crafted a story of how taken he was with the eldest Stark daughter. He hinted that he knew Ned would be reluctant to the match and it appeared he planned on keeping his child by his side till the end of his days. All lies of course but lie that the king would easily believe.

The King was furious with Ned for not accepting the position of Hand of the King, a position that he then foolishly handed to Stannis, and of course the final straw was when Ned broke off the engagement between Sansa and Joffery. Since then, Ned held no favor with the King and that was something Baelish was more than willing to profit from. The King of course granted his consent and Baelish would be allowed to marry Sansa out of mere spite for Ned. Baelish was certain that the King would find it greatly humorous that Ned’s eldest daughter would be married to such a low lord, that he would have pushed aside any type of evidence to the contrary. He did such things when it came to the Targaryen Queen. The King was a blind fool and only saw what he wanted to see.

It was irrelevant whether Ned gave his consent or not, Baelish would be leaving for King’s Landing with Sansa by his side, wife or not. Of course it would make his schemes go far smoother if Ned would consent and it would also save Sansa some unnecessary heartache. He hadn’t cared for her feelings when he sat at Riverrun crafting this particular scheme. Listening to Edmure Tully praise the young lady was helpful in deciding how he was going to convince her to fall in love with him. Of course the moment he met her, he realized how little her family really knew her and love wouldn’t get him anywhere with her. As he grew to know her, he actually started to feel a tender regard for her. It became more than the simple need to marry her but grew to actually wanting to marry her.  
He also realized that if she had not desired a match with him, he wouldn’t force her hand. He would allow her to make her own decisions and he would have reevaluated his plans, as he has done so many times before.

“I’m more than willing to pull the entire North out of debt and the only thing I ask for in return is your daughter’s hand in marriage. I find that it is a very generous trade off and everyone would profit from it. Sansa included.” Baelish stated and Ned’s fury was apparent on his face. Baelish found an odd sense of satisfaction in that.

“Why exactly do you want to marry my sister?” Robb asked reasonably. Baelish looked toward the younger man and smirked. While it couldn’t be said that Robb liked Baelish, he had at least grown to respect him. He had seen the Master of Coin in his element and couldn’t help but admire how he could make just about any situation profitable. If Sansa married him then at least he knew that his sister would be well provided for.

“I have grown rather fond of her.”

“And how far has this fondness grown?” Ned spat. Baelish could tell what he was thinking. With the increase of guards stationed around Winterfell, it was obvious that he was worried that Baelish would make some untoward advances on his daughter. The truth was on the tip of his tongue. He could easily state in great detail what he did to Sansa on that very desk, in her chambers and in various places in the castle but he stayed silent. The only thing that would achieve would be a dagger through the heart.

“I want to make her my wife, I would say that is very fond.” Baelish stated with a passive face, not allowing the truth to appear on his face. That leer he was known for itched to make an appearance but Baelish withheld doing so. He couldn’t allow Ned to see what he was thinking. “And I’m merely asking out of a courtesy.”

“A courtesy?!” Ned stated in an outrage. “Without my consent you cannot marry my daughter so I do not see how that would be a courtesy.”

“I’m a man who gets what he wants. I knew you would be less than willing to allow me Sansa’s hand in marriage. So I sent a raven to the King.” Baelish stated with a smirk. He saw Ned’s brow constrict in confusion while he heard Robb hold back a disbelieving laugh. At least one of them understood what Baelish had done.

“What does Robert have to do with this?” While the relationship between Ned and King Robert is strained and distant to say at best, Ned never would have thought that the King would grant something such as his daughter’s marriage without consulting him first. Yet, that is exactly what had happened. Baelish knew it was a devious move and a lesser man would have felt guilty at such actions but he was not a lesser man.

“He already granted me permission to marry her if I so desired.” Baelish stated and he saw Ned’s hand flex in anger. This was going to be less than pleasant and Baelish felt a sudden relief that Robb was in the solar with them. Robb would not allow his father to murder the Master of Coin, whether or not he wanted him for a brother-in-law. While the only thing Ned saw was the color red, Robb could see the consequences of murdering one of the King’s trusted advisors. While Baelish had a hand in killing the most trusted of advisors, the difference would be that Ned didn’t have such cleverness to get away with it. “Either way, I will be leaving King’s Landing with Sansa by my side, with or without your permission.”

Baelish’s declaration didn’t sit well with Ned. He was silent for a moment, just looking at Baelish. The latter man could see his face become cold and stony as the summer snows that had a habit of falling in the North. Then, after a moment, the silence broke and Ned reached across the desk grabbing Baelish by the throat. Baelish felt the Lord of Winterfell’s fingers wrap tightly around his neck and pulled him forward. He landed square on the desk, mirroring the position Sansa was in when Baelish had fucked her.

Of course Baelish couldn’t fully enjoy the irony. He was far too busy attempting to grasp for breath. Ned’s fingers only grew tighter and tighter. He could barely register Robb attempting to pull his father off of him and Baelish knew he would forever be thankful for his actions. However, Robb had very little success in achieving his goal. Baelish once again failed to take into consideration how strong the Starks were physically. He had done so with Brandon and now with Ned. This was the last time Baelish would make that mistake.

“Father! Let. Petyr. Go.”

Suddenly air filled Baelish’s lungs as Ned’s fingers left his throat. Once he felt the relief, Baelish brought his hand to his neck that was still throbbing from the assault. He slid lightly off the desk and looked up. In the doorway stood Sansa with both Catelyn and Arya behind her. Perhaps it was the lack of oxygen but Baelish realized how beautiful she really was. Her long red hair was lose and it hung down around her shoulders. Her dress was black and it caused her skin to appear ivory. In the flicker of the candle light he could see her ice blue eyes blazed with fury.

Sansa squared her shoulders as if she was prepared for war. She placed one foot in front of the other and entered the solar fully. This was her battle and Baelish realized how important it was for her fight it. He would gladly step aside and allow her to have this victory and he wondered if this would be a prelude to how their marriage would function. If it was, then Baelish knew that he found the perfect partner in this game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, now that you have read this chapter, I want you all to go and watch this video.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6AV0EYAAkDA
> 
> I thought about that during the entire time I was writing this. It cracked me up. 
> 
> ANYWAY, we learned a little bit more about Petyr's game and what he has been doing for the last year...any thoughts?


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 4th of July to all my American readers. If you are not American, then I hope you have a wonderful Saturday!

Sansa stood in the doorway and saw her father with his hands around Baelish’s throat. Baelish was sprawled across her father’s desk and it was obvious that he was in extreme discomfort. Robb was trying his best to stop their father from killing the man, something she would have to thank him for later. She knew exactly why her father was acting in such a manner. Sansa, along with her mother and Arya, had heard the trail end of their conversation. Baelish had asked for her hand in marriage, something that was obviously denied.

Both Baelish and Sansa knew that her father was not going to allow her to marry him willing. Baelish however left out the part that he already asked the king for permission, which was granted. She would have to have a small conversation with him about that later after she saved him from the painful death her father clearly had planned.

“Father. Let. Petyr. Go.” Her voice was cold and held venom in it. Ned’s head snapped up and he looked at her. His hands loosened and Baelish was able to escape the other man’s grasp. He fell slightly off of the infamous desk. He was grasping at his clothed neck in obvious discomfort. He looked at her and she saw a flash of relief cross his features. Good. Sansa wanted him to be pleased to see her. She took pride in that. It was clear that Baelish would not be able convince her father so she would have to do it herself.

She stepped into the solar and felt the air receive a sudden chill to it. Everyone was silent and the only noise that could be heard was the flicker of the torches. Baelish was still grasping at his neck. Catelyn moved toward him and if she had not been furious with her father, it might have bothered her. However, she knew that Baelish was fine and if it made Catelyn feel useful, let her care after an old friend. Both Arya and Robb gravitated toward their sister.

“It’s Petyr now, is it?” Ned asked in a deathly cold voice. She heard that tone very few times in her life. The first time was when she was a very small child. Catelyn attempted to hold a conversation about having Jon fostered in another home, in hopes of being rid of the boy. Ned didn’t take it well and stated that she shall never attempt to pawn his son off to someone else again. It was the worst argument in living memory that her parents ever had.

The second time was when Bran died. The argument between the Lord of Winterfell and King Robert that was created out of the boy's death, was legendary. It was forceful, cold and Sansa believed it broke any type of respect that Ned might have had for the King. Ned was too distraught over the death of his son and the King was trying to force a position upon him that he did not want. Sansa had snuck down and listened outside the solar door, completely distraught that she would not be going to King’s Landing.

The third time was once again between Ned and King Robert. When Ned broke off the engagement between Joffery and herself, the already strained relationship reached the breaking point. The King was hoping to join their houses in some vain hope of keeping her Aunt Lyanna alive in his memory. While Ned understood the King’s desperation to keep the memory of his long lost love alive, he simply did not trust the Lannisters enough to allow his daughter to be so close to them. This confrontation occurred a day after her “wilding” attack. The King had attempted to come to her chambers, demanding her opinion. Her father stopped him and she had never before found comfort in that voice.

She realized that he only used that deadly tone when it came to his children. If Ned felt that his children were threatened, he would use any force necessary to protect them. Despite her anger and frustration with her father, Sansa felt a wave of love for him. He loved her because she was his daughter and he would do anything it took to protect her. But she didn’t need his protection anymore. Sansa wouldn’t waiver. She couldn’t, not if she wanted to make her own decisions. She wouldn’t be afraid of her own father.

“What else am I supposed to call the man I plan to marry?” Sansa asked. His glare was made of steel and it penetrated through her. She felt Robb place his hands on her should and try to convince her to allow him to deal with their father. Sansa just pushed him off. Arya reached for Robb and pulled him away from Sansa. Arya had complete faith that her sister would be able to handle herself. It seemed that Arya and Baelish were the only ones who believed that she could.

“Everyone else. OUT.” Ned hissed through his teeth.

“Ned perhaps it would be best if we…” Catelyn started but Ned cut her off.

“OUT.” Ned shouted. His gaze never left her’s. They stood still as statues, neither willing to waiver. She heard Robb and Arya leave with whispered voices. She knew that neither of them would travel far. Both of them would want details of what happened inside this room. Catelyn moved to Baelish again and placed a hand on his arm.

“Petyr, perhaps we should have Luwin look at your throat.” Catelyn stated in a kind voice. Sansa could only imagine the smirk on his lips but she wasn’t willing to look away from her father. She heard Baelish cough and it was clear that his throat was still bothering him. She wasn’t surprised, her father had held a tight grip on his throat.

“No, I should be fine. The discomfort is fading.” His voice was hoarse and he was a liar. If Sansa had not left a lip shaped bruise on the base of his neck, he gladly would have allowed the Maester examine his neck. However, Baelish was wise enough to know that it would not be prudent at such a time to have that little secret get out. If Baelish glanced at Sansa she didn’t know because she continued to stare at her father. Catelyn and Baelish left the solar; closing the door behind them and leaving father and daughter alone.

“Please inform me what you are thinking? Have you lost your mind?!” Ned asked with compete disbelief in his voice. He knew that his daughter had developed feelings for the Master of Coin because she all but admitted it to him. When he was collecting taxes in Deepwood it plagued him and the smug comments about how much Baelish enjoyed her company didn’t ease his worries. He wanted nothing more than to keep them apart and he only had one idea as to why Sansa would willingly allow herself to marry such a man. “Has he ruined you?”

“No.”

“Don’t lie to me. Has he ruined you?” Ever since Baelish had come to Winterfell, Sansa had been different and just his morning something about her had changed. He didn’t want to believe it and he simply pushed the thought out of his mind but with Baelish’s request he couldn’t deny the possibility. “If he even touched you, I will kill him.”

“He has not ruined me. I promise.” In a way, it was the truth. Baelish was not the man who ruined her. That honor belonged to Joffery and Joffery alone. If anything Baelish helped piece her back together and gave her a purpose in life. He gave her direction and something more than the hollow existence that she was living before. Ned looked at her and Sansa felt that for the very first time, that he was really seeing her.

“Then explain why you would be willing to marry such a man.” Ned asked. The both stood still and just gazed at each other. The only thing that stood between them was the desk that she allowed Baelish to bed her on and the same desk that Ned tried to kill him on. “I just don’t understand you could possibly be thinking.”

Sansa did not know exactly how to reply. Why did she want to marry him? He was the one person who could give her exactly what she wanted. There was this desire she had for him that was paralyzing. The conversations they held were stimulating and it made her feel intelligent. He never pushed her aside as though she wouldn't understand. He wanted to teach her and she was more than eager to learn. Then there was that feeling she had when she was with him. This calm but exciting feeling that built up inside her when he was near. She couldn’t explain it but it was terrifying and perfect.

“I’m thinking that he is my choice. I don’t know what else to tell you.” Sansa stated honestly. She couldn’t tell him that Baelish was going to help seek revenge on the man who robbed her of her innocence. She couldn’t tell him that she liked the feel of him between her legs. She couldn’t describe what she was feeling. She could not put it into words. “You said that you would allow me to have my choice. Well I’ve made it. I choose him.”

“No. I won’t let you.” Ned shook his head and sat down in his chair. He seemed resolved to forbid her from making this choice. She wondered if Baelish had been anyone else, would he have let her marry that stranger. Was he just completely set against Baelish because he had history with Catelyn or did he truly believe him to be a monster? She knew that Baelish was in many ways a horrible person but Sansa felt that he decided to hate him before even allowing himself to prove his worth. 

“King Robert has already granted his permission, whether I'm married to Petyr or not, I'm going with him.” Sansa stated and Ned shook his head. Sansa huffed and walked around the desk and perched herself against it. She crossed her arms gently seeing that her wrist still throbbed. It was the reason why they were headed toward the solar in the first place. Septa Mordane noticed that Sansa was unable to fully participate in her lessons and when she checked her wrist, she called for her mother directly. Catelyn had been shocked by the bruising on her wrist and Sansa was very honest when she told her how she had injured it. She told her what Theon had said to her and how Baelish had stepped in. She avoided the vulgar questions he asked Baelish and completely left out the small kiss they had shared. “What are you going to do? Lock me in a tower? Not permit me to leave?”

“If I have to, I will.” Ned stated with a steady resolve. It would be easy. All he would have to do would be to lock her away and have several guards posted outside her door, day and night. But even that would fail. Gold would cause any guard to turn his head and Baelish would make sure he found the one guard that would do just that. They would be on the King's Road before anyone knew she had left. She would hate to leave under such circumstances but she would.  
“And you would thank me for it.” 

“No, I would grow to hate you for it.” The words sunk in and Ned let his head fall backward. Sansa felt guilty and she wished that things would be different. Life would be easier if he would just agree. If he forced her hand and prevented her from marrying Baelish, only to ship her off to someone he deemed suitable, she knew that she never would be able to look at him the same way. “Don't make me hate you.”

“I just wants whats best for you.” Ned said in a helpless tone. He reached out to place his hand on her arm and when he graced her wrist, she pulled back quickly with a hiss. Sansa's face twisted in pain and Ned looked at her in concern. He reached out and gently took her wrist into his hand. He pulled the fabric of her sleeve and saw the severe bruising along her porcelain skin. He touched it gently and Sansa winced. “What happened?” When she didn't answer right away, Ned jumped to the worst conclusions. “Did Lord Baelish-”

“No. Not him. Theon.” Ned looked at her with surprise. He had kept Theon under a very strict supervision, that he wasn't sure how he would have harmed her. If Ned himself wasn't with Theon then a guard was. 

“When?”

“He cornered me before they left this morning. He still blames me for his banishment and being forced to marry Jeyne. Theon wanted to know how I orchestrated it. I told him I didn't know what he was talking about but he didn't listen. He just grabbed by wrist and wouldn't let go.” Sansa stated and looked at the state of her wrist. She couldn't deny that it looked as nasty as it felt. She should have gone straight to Luwin but she decided to head to her chamber instead, wanting to be alone. “If Petyr hadn't stepped in when he did, Theon might have broken my wrist.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“He saw the altercation and intervened. Preventing Theon from taking it any further.” Sansa stated and it took her a moment to realize she never really allowed the altercation to affect her. She suddenly realized that it could have gone far worse than it had. She shook herself, not allowing herself to go down such a path. It would only lead to dark places. 

“Is that how he convinced you to do this? Come in and save the day so you feel obligated to marry him? Or is it something else? Is he pressuring you into this? If this is about the taxes, there is another way. I won't make you do this.” Ned stated taking her good hand into his but Sansa yanked it back out again. She pushed off the desk and turned about the room. She was at a lost because it seemed that her father was determined to make Baelish out to be the villain. 

“It has nothing to do with obligation or pressure or taxes! This is my decision! I want this!” Sansa paused and took a deep breath. “When Petyr brought up the idea of marriage I was hesitant because in all honesty I never wanted to marry! I would have been happy to stay unmarried for the rest of my days but he gave me choice. He told me that if I didn't want to marry him, then he would leave and I would never see him again. The mere thought of him just being gone, hurt.” The words spilled from her mouth before she could stop them and she felt her insides constrict. She never realized just how much she wanted him before. 

“He won't make a good husband, Sansa!” Ned stated in a frustrated manner. He pushed himself out of his chair and started to pace. Sansa just watched him as he twisted and turned. He ran his hands through his hair and she wondered if he would pull it out of his skull because he was gripping it so tightly. “He is not a good man Sansa. He will only end up hurting you.”

“I know exactly who he is and its why I chose him.” She slumped, letting her arms fall completely to her side. She just didn't know how to make Ned understand without spilling every little secret that she and Baelish shared. “He is everything that I want. He gives me a purpose. What purpose do I serve sitting in Winterfell, spending my days sewing and smiling?” 

“I would find you a husband who would give you a purpose if that is what you wanted! Just tell me what you want!” Ned shouted louder than he had before. He grabbed a globe that was made completely of glass and threw it. Sansa just stood there mystified as she heard the glass shatter against the wall. She had seen him angry but he never yelled at her like that and he definitely never threw anything at her. She felt the tears begin to sting in her eyes. She looked down at her hands when they started to fall. “Sansa.” Ned stepped forward and brought her into his arms. He held her close like he had when she was just a small child. 

“Why can't you just let me have this?” 

“He won't make you happy.” With that Sansa pushed away from him and sat back down in one of the chairs behind his desk. She ran her hands through her hair, not looking at her father. Ned walked over and knelt down before her. “You deserve so much more. Someone kind and nobel. Someone brave. Lord Baelish is none of those things.”

“I told you, I know exactly who he is.” Sansa whispered. “The world is cold and cruel. It hardens the softest of men. How many wars have you fought? How many people have you lost? I don't want a knight whose whole life is about winning tourneys or what his family name can buy him. I don't want a Harrold Hardyng. I want someone who can survive. I want Petyr.” Sansa stated through a tear stained face. Ned didn't know what to say but he would rather fight a thousand wars instead of continuing this conversation. 

“When did you grow up?” His voice was just above a whisper. It felt that just a moment ago, Sansa was a small child who was the embodiment of everything that was pure and innocent. Yet the woman who sat in front of him was someone who has been trapped by darkness. She had survived winter, death and so much more. 

“Apparently when you weren't looking.” 

Ned sighed and sat down on the ground. His back leaned against the wooden desk and he closed his eyes. He was so tired. Ned had been so worried about Sansa and what designs Baelish had for her. He was terrified of losing her. He already lost one child and he didn't think he would survive the lose of another. He reached up and took her hand in his. He nearly lost her once. 

Arya had come running into the dining hall screaming about the Godswood. They ran, Catelyn, Robb and even Theon. The sight of Sansa lying there in the snow with her hair flayed out behind her, nestled beside two direwolves was immobilizing. The contrast between her red hair the white of the snow reminded him of blood. He picked her up in the same manner he had his broken son three years before. He carried her into Winterfell and placed her in her bed. He kissed her forehead and prayed to the gods that his daughter would return to them. Day in and day out they listened to her shallow breathing until she grew stronger. The Sansa that recovered was changed and Ned was only beginning to realize that. 

Luwin assured them that she would live but it was only because of the direwolves. If they had not laid next to her, the cold would have killed her. He remembered the handprints around her neck and from that day forward, Eddard Stark hated the Wildlings. When Jon wrote to him asking for help defending the Wall against the Wildings, he gladly would watch them all burn. 

He felt like a failure. He couldn't protect his own children. Jon was fighting for his life and the lives of others everyday. Robb was a man long before his time; allowing himself to grow hard when his parents simply couldn't deal with the pain and the grief. Arya had a vengeance and a fury in her that Ned feared would consume her. Bran was buried deep within Winterfell's crypts long before his time and Rickon...sweet innocent Rickon. Who knows how long he will remain untouched. 

“I just don't want to lose you.” Ned whispered. The was the crux of it. The thought of Sansa being married to such a man would be like losing her all together. She would either go to King's Landing, never to return or Baelish would turn her into someone he wouldn't recognize. He wanted her protected and somewhere safe. He wanted her in a place where she would remain untouched and no harm would come to her. 

“You don't have to.” Sansa moved off the chair and sat on the ground beside her father. She placed her head on his shoulder and she felt him kiss the top of it. “I'm getting married. I'm not dying and its not like you won't ever see me again. Petyr wouldn't do that. He wouldn't keep me from you or any of us.” She paused for a second and looked at her father directly in the eye. “I'm getting married but I'll always be your little girl.” 

Ned broke then. Tears streamed down his eyes and he simply held her in his arms. He remembered the day she was born and he knew that giving her away would be one of the hardest things he would ever have to do. He knew that he would never like Baelish nor trust him. When he came to Winterfell he thought he would have to worry about Baelish still being in love with Catelyn, it never occurred to him to worry about his daughter. 

“I don't like this.” 

“You don't have to.” Ned turned and looked her directly in the eye. He placed his hands on her face and wiped the tears away. He leaned in to kiss her forehead and held her close. 

“I want you to promise me something.” Ned took a deep breath, hating himself for what he was about to do. It went against everything he was and everything he stood for. “If he is ever cruel to you or harms you in any way, you will tell me. No matter where you are or who you become, you are a daughter of the North and Winterfell will always be your home.” Sansa smiled then and launched herself into her father's arms. 

“I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had wanted to have this chapter out during the middle of the day but this chapter was difficult for me to write, so I had to keep stopping and coming back to it. I based this chapter off of a conversation I feel that every daughter should have with their father at least once. A daughter is going to date and sometimes marry a man that her father's hates. The reason it was so hard for me to write was because my dad died three years ago and it hit me that I would never be able to have that conversation. It was just...it was a rough day. 
> 
> I hope I was able to do it justice.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone had a good holiday!

News of the engagement between Lord Petyr Baelish and Sansa Stark flew across the North like wildfire. While many of the great Northern houses were saddened to see their perfect and unspoiled Sansa bound to such a man, they could only assume one thing, that it was a political match. The gold they had paid to the Iron Throne was suddenly returned to them and they all assumed that in return for Sansa's hand, Baelish would be responsible for paying their debts. While the North loved Sansa, they were more than willing to see her married to a man they all hated in order to save their own families. What was one girl's sacrifice to that of an entire kingdom? 

The Winterfell household took the news differently. The servants whispered about it, as did the guards. Rodrick had sent her pitying looks when he learned of the news. Luwin had said no words to her but hugged her tightly. While Arya had always been close with Rodrick, due to their mutual love of fencing, Luwin had always been partial to Sansa. He was the one person who psychically cared for her when she needed it. Sansa knew that he would take her secret to the grave with him. It almost broke her heart to see him so saddened by the news of her engagement. She held him close and vowed to him that she would be happy. Luwin had told her through teary eyes that he only wanted her to find herself again and to have everything life could offer. His words softened her heart a little. 

Ned had practically disappeared from everyone. The only time the family saw him was during meal times; the rest of the day was spent in his solar with the wooden door locked tightly, keeping everyone else at bay. While he has agreed to allow the marriage to take place, because he didn't want his pride to cost him his daughter, he wasn't exactly pleased by the prospect. He was completely civil with Baelish but Sansa could tell that there was a real hatred burning under the surface. 

Catelyn accepted the engagement but whenever the topic arose, her lips thinned in a displeasing manner. She also always seemed to be within an arms reach of Sansa. She refused to allow the newly engaged couple a moment alone. If they would take a stroll through the Glass Gardens, Catelyn would trail behind with just enough distance to allow Sansa to voice her displeasure aloud without the fear of repercussions. While he never said so directly, Baelish was not one who enjoyed being chaperoned. He did not take kindly to the thought of someone trailing his every move. 

A raven was sent to the Wall informing the Lord Commander of the impending nuptials. Jon wrote a reply stating that he would ride for Winterfell in order to attend the ceremony. He gave no indication whether or not he was pleased or displeased by the news. Sansa however was pleased to know that she would be able to see Jon one last time before she would be headed toward King's Landing. Baelish also seemed highly interested in meeting Jon, something that Sansa found bizarre. He had never mentioned his interest in Jon before. When she asked why, Baelish would just smirked at her and would reply with some cryptic answer, which would only infuriate her. 

Robb had taken a far more diplomatic approach. He accepted the engagement but also decided to make the most of his sister's betrothed. He wanted to learn from him and Baelish was more than willing to teach him. He offered his counsel and said that if Robb ever needed advice on anything, that Sansa and himself would just be a raven away in King's Landing. While most would think Baelish was being kind, Sansa knew he was solidifying an alliance with the future Lord of Winterfell. If Baelish would ever need it, she knew the North would back him simply because Sansa was his wife. The North adored Sansa. 

Arya had taken to Baelish long before the rest of the Starks. When she learned of the engagement, she just shrugged her shoulder's proclaiming that it was a forgone conclusion. Arya did make more of an effort to speak with Baelish than she had before and in return Baelish took an interest in her lessons. He would inquire after what she was learning and what she intended to do with her skills. When Arya would reply that she was unclear what her future held, Baelish would just smirked and replied that he was certain something would come her way. 

Sansa knew that she should be concerned with her betrothed's interest in her siblings but she couldn't really bring herself to be displeased by it. Baelish was more than willing to murder, ruin and dispose of anyone she wished, Sansa was willing to allow him to use her connections to further whatever agenda he had. If his new found understanding with Robb allowed Baelish to have his input in the North, then Sansa would turn her head. What she couldn't fully understand was his interest in Jon and Arya. Sans contemplated such possibilities as she watched Arya train in the courtyard with Rodrick. Her back leaned against the wooden bench as she crossed her legs.

Arya was covered from head to toe in mud. It had snowed the night before but the warmth had melted the snow, causing the simplest of walks to become a mess. The hem of Sansa's dark blue dress was deep in mud and she knew it would be just awful to remove the stains. She watched how Arya would duck and dive to avoid a blow here and there. It appeared that she had no qualms about her clothes being ruined. 

Baelish strolled over and sat down beside his new fiance. He crossed his legs and Sansa turned to him. He was wearing his long black coat and his mockingbird pin was perfectly placed. Upon closer inspection Sansa noticed that his beard was scruffier than normal. The grey mingled with the black and Sansa couldn't help but admit how attractive she found it. Sansa's eyes flickered and saw her mother standing on the balcony in one of the towers. It appeared that Catelyn was watching Arya but Sansa knew that as long as Baelish sat by her side, her mother would not be far. 

“You look beautiful.” Baelish stated as his eyes roamed over her. Sansa blushed lightly which only made him smirk at her. She knew exactly what he was thinking because she was wishing the same thing. It had only been a week since their engagement had become official but since then their escapades had ended. It was not as though they wanted to keep their hands off each other but rather because they were forced too. They knew it was because Ned wanted to keep her innocent for as long as possible. 

“Thank you.”

“I just spoke with your father. We were discussing the particulars of our arrangement. Apparently your uncle Edmure will be visiting for our wedding.” When Baelish said the word 'wedding' Sansa's stomach turned and a small smile formed on Baelish's lips. “I was rather surprised that he would be willing to make the journey.” 

“Do you get along with my uncle?” She didn't know her uncle well but she had met him on several occasions. She knew that her mother wrote to him weekly and she would receive a letter in return. While the relationship between Catelyn and Lysa had always been strained, Edmure was always close with his sister. Her mother once said that Edmure didn't have what many people would consider a close friend.

“We were roughly the same age when I was fostered at Riverrun. We went on some adventures together.” Baelish stated as he wore a small smile. Sansa wondered what he was like as a child. He once told her that he had been a clever but naive child. Once he was banished from Riverrun he had lost contact with Edmure and Catelyn, never seeing them until Lysa had died. He then saw Edmure again when he went to Riverrun to collect the taxes for the Riverlands. “He spoke fondly of you when I was at Riverrun.” 

“Really?” Sansa stated with a small smile. She suddenly had the desire to run her hands up his leg toward his member but she knew that if she even attempted, her mother would appear beside them in an instant. Baelish had once kissed her cheek on one of their strolls, a mere peck and before his lips even left her skin, Catelyn stood beside them with a disapproving look upon her face. “And did my uncle volunteer this information or were you prying it out of him?” Sansa bit her lip attempting to with hold a naughty smile. 

“I may have made a few inquires.” Baelish replied with devilish smirk as he turned toward her. He leaned in closer as did Sansa. They were still inches apart and not touching. It was pushing the boundaries and Sansa wondered if she would be able to sneak out that night to see him but she knew that it was unlikely. She didn't want her father murdering the groom before the wedding. 

“And did you learn anything of interest?” 

“Oh, many, many things Sweetling.” Baelish drawled. He itched to reach for her but only flexed his fingers instead. The tension between the two of them was far more tortuous now than it had been before their engagement. Now he knew what she was like. He knew what she tasted like and how she felt beneath his fingertips. He wanted her again but he knew that under the current circumstances, that it would not be possible. “I learned that Riverrun is a rather dull affair compared to Winterfell.” 

“Perhaps it wasn't the location that was dull, but rather the company you kept.” Sansa whispered in a breathless tone. She shifted herself in an uncomfortable manner and Baelish's smirk grew wider. He daringly took her hand and brought it to his lips. His eyes locked with her as she felt his lips on her skin again. It wasn't enough but it would have to do. Baelish let go of her hand after a moment and Sansa pulled it back to her side. 

“Perhaps you're right.” Baelish pulled back then just in time for an extremely muddy Arya to slid in between the two of them. Sansa jumped away slightly, not wanting mud to get on her clothing. Baelish laughed lightly at the intrusion but still held that naughty smirk on his face. 

“I would suggest that if the two of you actually want a wedding to be held, then you might want to behave yourselves.” Arya stated with a light tone. Her eyes flickered to the balcony and the couple both turned to see Catelyn glaring down upon them. Baelish's smirk grew wider as he lifted his hand and gave her a gentle wave. It took everything Sansa had to hold back a laugh, something Arya didn't even attempt to do. The younger girl clutched her stomach and shook her head. “Do you ever behave?”

“Do you?” 

“Never.” 

“Good.” Baelish laughed and Arya smiled. Arya could see why her family distrusted the man but she couldn't help but enjoy his company. He treated her like an equal and not a small child. He made it clear that he encouraged her pursuits with the sword and if she ever needed assistance he would be more than willing to help her. 

“Other than my uncle attending our wedding, what else did you and my father discuss in his solar, Lord Baelish?” Sansa asked with a small smirk. Baelish returned the gesture and simply looked at her. The two of the shared a knowing glance. Baelish raised his hand to the small of his neck as though he was remembering something. Arya looked between the them and shook her head. 

“I do not want to know.” With that Arya pulled herself from the bench, grabbing Needle which had been left perched against a wagon and returned to Rodrick, who had been joined by Robb. Before long the distinct sound of metal upon metal and a few commanding shouts had started again. 

“We discussed many things. Ironed out the particulars of the marriage contract.” All teasing was pushed aside and Baelish grew serious. Sansa looked at him curiously. While the wedding was to be held soon, it was unclear of when exactly because no one outside of Sansa and Baelish, wanted to speak of it. Ned would grow somber and Catelyn would purse her lips. While Catelyn never once said she was against the match, she made it clear that she wasn't exactly pleased with it either. 

“Well?” Her curiosity was eating her up inside. There were not many details to plan because Sansa knew that she would have a traditional Northern wedding. Unlike Jeyne's wedding, Northern weddings were universally the same. It would be held in the Godswood with candles lighting the way. Her father would hand her over to Baelish while Robb officiated the ceremony. There was no need for a Septon with the Old Faith; they only needed the Old Gods.

“We will be wed the day after your brother arrives from the Wall. No more than a week from now.” Sansa sucked in a breath and Baelish returned it with a gentle smile. “Your father wanted to stall awhile longer but I told him that I am needed in King's Landing as soon as possible. He seemed displeased but agreed non the less.” 

“In one week we will be married?” So soon. 

“One week.” Baelish's tone was breathless and the way he looked at her made her heart begin to race. This wasn't the look he gave her when he wanted to bury himself between her thighs. No, this was a look of something deeper that Sansa could not place. “In one week you will be Lady Baelish and everything I have will be yours.” 

“So it's not just your need to return to King's Landing then?” While she knew that their marriage would be beneficial for both of them, it amazed her how much she actually wanted to be his wife. Those words she spoke to her father that day in the solar rang true. While the idea terrified her, it wasn't until the words stumbled from her lips that she realized how much she wanted him. She chose him and she would forever stand by that decision. 

“No. It is not.” His words rang sincere and it brought a small, girlish smile to her face. She was happy and it felt so foreign to her. She never wanted this feeling that ran through her veins to ever fade. She was well aware that all happiness faded but for a while she was willing to let herself just feel. She had denied herself of that gift for so long. “Sweetling, when we arrive in King's Landing, I ask that where ever you go, Lady must accompany you.” 

“Of course.” She readily agreed. Sansa was overjoyed with the prospect of becoming his wife but the thought of King's Landing still instilled a fear that she knew may never fade. The prospect of Lady always being by her side was more than just comforting. Even if the direwolf was not in sight, she would at least be close enough to strike in a moments notice. “What else did you discuss?”

“Robb mostly.” Baelish replied and Sansa nodded expecting that. Winterfell might have been abuzz with the knowledge that she was soon to be wed but another Stark was soon to be engaged. A letter had been sent to the Twins requesting a meeting in regards to negotiating a marriage contract, something which they eagerly replied in agreement. “We will leave two days after the wedding and when we reach the Crossing we will foster with the Freys for a few days in order to come to an agreement.”

“What of Father and Robb?” She questioned. 

“They will travel along side us. We will part ways once the deal as been made. Your father and Robb will return to Winterfell and we will continue our journey south.” She smiled gently at him but it didn't reach her eyes. Baelish noticed the shift and reached out. He took her hand and came it a gentle squeeze. “What is it?” 

“Nothing really. It's just that it will be comforting to have them close for a little longer, even if it is just father and Robb.” She laughed lightly and shook herself. “I'm so pleased that we are to be married but its scary to leave them behind. I had thought Jeyne foolish when she told me of her fears but now I understand. You will be the only family I have in such a foreign place.” 

Baelish looked at her and she could see his mind turning. Sansa wasn't playing him and this wasn't a calculated move on her part, and he could see that. She truly was saddened to leave them behind but now that had she told Baelish of her fears and he felt the compulsion to fix them. Sansa wasn't asking him to but she knew that he would at least try. 

“I can try and convince your father to allow Arya to travel to the Twins with us. I can't guarantee it but I will at least try and persuade him.” He gave her that boyish grin that he rarely shared with anyone and Sansa vowed to at least make that grin appear once a month, if not more for the rest of her life. “Of course your father may deny the request out of foolish pride and you might have to convince him yourself. You have already proved that you are talented in that regard.” 

“A daughter is any father's weakness.” Sansa laughed lightly. She turned to look toward Arya as she continued to fight with her sword. The younger girl's laughter rang out among the court yard and it attracted the attention of those around her. Even Catelyn broke her gaze from Sansa and Baelish to give a warm smile to her youngest daughter. Arya was holding her stomach and just laughing hysterically as Robb laid on the ground. “I will miss her most of all.” 

Suddenly Robb launched himself from the ground. He was cover head to toe in mud and Sansa assumed that Arya was the culprit. Robb ran toward his sister who darted around a wagon. He continued to try and catch her but Arya was always talented at evasion. Eventually the elder Stark took hold of Arya around the middle and spun her around. Their laughter mingled together and Rickon began to giggle around them. Sansa just sat back and watched. While she was never one to participate in any type of roughhousing, she would miss being a spectator. 

While Sansa watched her siblings, Baelish watched her. The look of pure joy and sadness all played across her face. The way the corners of her lips rose when one of the Stark children did something amusing made Baelish's stomach knot. He wanted to see her that happy for the rest of her day. Perhaps one day it would be their own children who caused that look. 

He never before really considered having children. When the decision to take Sansa as his wife he knew that children would be a side effect of marriage but he never considered that he would be a father. When he was married to Lysa, he merely tolerated her beastly son and it was only to keep him in her good graces for a time. Baelish knew that he would never get Lysa pregnant again and he would always grateful to her father for forcing the moon tea down her throat. He could never imagine being bound to Lysa in such a way forever. Yet, if Sansa bore his child he was certain it would be a completely different experience. 

“She will always be welcome in her home if she so desires to be there.” Baelish whispered and Sansa turned to look at him. She gave him a smile in gratitude. “If you ever miss her, then you just say the word and I will have a raven and rider sent out the same day to retrieve her.” 

“While I'm sure I would love have Arya close to me whenever I pleased, I highly doubt that father would allow her to come to us, not matter how much I missed her. Ravens will have to be enough for a time.” Sansa stated. She was touched by his concern but she knew the reality of Arya ever staying with them for a time would never happen.

“Perhaps I won't give him a choice.” Baelish stated with a smirk. “You certainly didn't.” That caused Sansa to laugh with her head held back. She covered her lips with her hand when she caught the attention of her mother, standing guard on the balcony. Baelish, who realized he was still holding Sansa's hand, let go of her. 

“No I suppose I did not.” 

“And I am sure that Arya will miss you just as you will her. If we send the offer to her directly before even consulting Ned or Catelyn, you know Arya will pester herself until they give in.” Baelish paused and reached over to tuck a stray red hair behind her ear. “Like you said, a daughter is any father's weakness.” 

“And if we ever have a daughter Petyr, will you deny her anything?” Sansa asked and Baelish just smiled. 

“If she looks like you, I won't be able to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is as about as fluffy as I know how to get. Either way I hope that you enjoyed it!


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank goodness for lunch hours right? Our system is back up and running but I'm swamped. Really. Like overloaded. I needed a break and the best way to do that is with some Petyr Baelish right?

The tension in the castle lightened slightly. The appearance of Edmure Tully eased the worries and brought a welcome distraction to the residence of Winterfell. Edmure had always been a serious man with a dry sense of humor. He hid behind his auburn beard as though it was a mask. He was always considered to be aloof but it was more of the fact that he was a shy man who didn't show his emotions easily. He wasn't one who grew close to people easily but once he could claim someone a friend, he would forever be loyal.

Ned had welcomed the appearance of his brother-in-law and wasted no time in quizzing Edmure on the knowledge he held in regards to Baelish. Edmure was honest. He told him that while he would never be able to fully trust Baelish, he knew that he would never physically harm Sansa. As children, Edmure could never fully consider him a friend, even if they had their moments, because Baelish spent most of his time chasing after Catelyn. Edmure had never been a social man and he was far worse as a child. He was simply too shy to even attempt becoming friends with him.

Baelish continued to assist Ned with the North's finances and Edmure was a welcome buffer between the two men. Edmure was able to keep Ned from physically assaulting Baelish and he attempted to silence the Master of Coin with a look when he would over step his bounds, which was often. The three of them, along with Robb would spend hours in Ned's solar creating a budget and plan the future of the North. Baelish proclaimed that the moment he was wed to Sansa, he would send word to King's Landing that the North's taxes would be paid in full from his own personal accounts.

Robb spent the majority of his time questioning his uncle on the Frey daughters. Edmure had attended the service for Walder Frey, seeing that the Twins were only a day’s journey from Riverrun, but he admitted he didn't see much of them. Edmure wasn't one who connected well with those of the opposite gender, unless it was his sister. Edmure offered to travel to the Twins alongside them in order to offer assistance in brokering the marriage contract. Ned readily agreed because he trusted Edmure far more than he could even begin to like Baelish. Baelish only smirked and agreed with no complaint.

Sansa saw less of Baelish during her uncle's visit but it wasn't without the lack of trying. Any time they attempted a moment alone, either Baelish would be pulled away on some type of business or Catelyn would need Sansa's input in regards to the wedding. She currently was sitting on her bed, watching her mother dig through all of her old dresses, deciding which ones Sansa would need in King's Landing. The wedding was in two days and her trunks were all but packed.

Her chambers were bare, every inch of her was packed away except for a few dresses that would get her through until the wedding. The wedding night would not take place in her childhood room. Instead it would be in the guest chambers that Baelish had been using. It was symbolic to her in many ways. She would no longer be Sansa Stark but instead Lady Sansa Baelish. While she was thrilled for this new adventure, she couldn't help but become sentimental. She remembered everything that had taken place in this room and it all seemed so bleak now.

“Sansa?” She turned to see her mother holding a light blue dress in her hands. Catelyn was looking at her strangely and Sansa felt guilty for not even paying attention to anything she had been saying. “Are you alright?”

“Yes. I'm fine. Just thinking.” Sansa replied and Catelyn got a small smile on her face. She folded the gown and placed it into the truck, along with all the other dresses Sansa would be taking with her. Catelyn moved around the bed, the train of her ivy green dress trailing behind her. She sat down on the furs beside her daughter and placed her hand on Sansa's knee. She gave it a gentle squeeze and just smiled at her.

“Did I ever tell you about the night before my wedding?” Catelyn asked and Sansa shook her head. Her mother never was one to become sentimental. She rarely had ever spoken of her childhood or what came before her life at Winterfell. She had never heard of Baelish before his visit to the North. She realized that there was so much about her mother she didn't know.

“No. You haven't.”

“Well, I was nervous. Far more nervous than you appear. I never met your father and I wondered if he was anything like your uncle. I remember packing up my chambers but unlike you I had to do it alone. Well, I had a few servants to assist me but I had no one to calm my fears. I couldn't sleep and I was absolutely terrified about my wedding night.” Catelyn paused and looked at her. “At least you know Baelish and I hope he will be kind to you.” Whether he would be kind and gentle, she didn't know but she knew either way, she would enjoy her wedding night very much. “Do you have any questions?”

“No.” She looked away from her mother but felt her grab her hand. How could she have any questions when she already knew what to expect? She already had the worst and the best of it all. Nothing could surprise her anymore.

“Well, if you change your mind I'm here.” Catelyn smiled. “Always. Your father and I may not have wanted this for you. Petyr may be the last man we ever thought you would marry but we are proud of you.” Sansa laughed lightly. She wondered how proud of her they would be if they knew the things she had done and the things she is planning on doing. She wasn't exactly what her future would hold and the journey she would take but she knew that it wasn't going to be easy. She knew that it would be dark, twisted, bloody and possibly the best thing that could ever happen to her. Her life would go against everything her family stood for and everything they had taught her.

“Even Father? He hates this.” While she never wanted to admit it, it hurt the way he looked at her. When he gazed at her, it was as though he was mourning her. It wasn't as though she was just getting married and moving away but instead it was as though she had died. Sansa didn't want her family to grieve for her, she had done that enough already. The girl she had been died a long time ago and Sansa already put her to rest. Perhaps the rest of her family should to.

“He hates it more than you know.” Catelyn stated with a laugh. Sansa looked down at her hands and her mother could tell that it hurt her. “He doesn't trust Petyr and he never will. It's just something you will have to learn to live with.”

“He is not a bad man.” Lie.

“But he is not a good one either.” Catelyn rebutted. “When we spoke at the Weirwood that day, I knew you would choose him. There was no way around it. I thought long and hard about how I was going to stop this. I even considered sending you to Edmure for a while, at least until Petyr would be finished here.” She stopped and just looked at Sansa.

“What changed?”

“I realized that I would have to send you out into the world one way or another. I couldn't protect you forever. I realized that you would have to learn that the world is a cold and cruel place, but perhaps you already have. Then I thought about Petyr and how he would do anything to keep what he has achieved safe. If you were his wife then he would protect you with everything he had, simply because you were his.” Catelyn sniffed and brought her hand to her eyes to wipe away the tears that were forming. “The things he would do. The things I think he has done. He is not a good man.” She stood from the bed and walked over to the window, gazing out into the sky. “But he will keep you safe and that is all I care about.” Sansa moved to comfort her but stopped when her door burst open.

“Sansa!” Arya stumbled in, causing both mother and daughter to jump. Arya landed with a loud thump and was holding her chest. She was clearly out of breath. She stood and laughed lightly. “A rider has been spotted on the King's Road with a direwolf following behind him! Jon has come early!” Her smile was wide and excited. Arya and Jon had always been close and this would be the first time in years that they had really seen each other.

“Go.” Catelyn said through tight lips. Sansa knew that Jon would always be a sore subject for her mother but she couldn't blame Jon. He never asked to be born. She picked up a simple black cloak, slipped it on and walked over to her mother. Sansa kissed her mother on her cheek but felt Arya's hand slip into her's. Arya pulled her and dragged her through the door. The younger girl began to pick up speed and if it wasn't for Sansa's long legs, she wouldn't have been able to keep up.

They ran as fast as they could through the stone corridors, taking the shortest route possible. Sansa's long red hair was flying behind her and her dark blue dress swished around her ankles. Briefly she noticed that Arya wasn't dressed like a farmer's boy. Instead she wore a purple dress and her hair was pulled back into a bun. They reached the stairway and saw that Robb was speaking to Baelish at the bottom. Once they reached the bottom, Arya paused, let go of Sansa's hand and looped her arm through Robb's.

“Jon has been spotted on the King's Road.” Arya stated as she dragged Robb toward the wooden door and pushed them open. Sansa turned toward Baelish and smiled. She held out her hand and Baelish took it greedily. He lifted it to his lips and kissed it slowly. She could feel his smirk against her skin.

“In a hurry?” Baelish stated in a smug tone. This would be the first time she had felt his skin against her's in days. The last would have been the simple kiss on the hand the day they sat on the bench in the courtyard. While she has felt more of him in the past, the fact that it had been close to three weeks since that night in her father's solar caused Sansa yearned for him. Even the more innocent of touches, such as a kiss on the hand sent a shiver through her entire body.

“With you? Never.” Sansa giggled and Baelish smirked at her. She entwined her fingers with his and began to pull him toward the door. “Come and meet my brother.” Baelish didn't reply but she could tell there was a glint in his eye. She couldn't place exactly what he was thinking but he was plotting something. If she wasn't anxious to see Jon, she would have demanded to know what he was thinking.

“Gladly.” Sansa pushed the doors open and pulled Baelish into the courtyard. Arya was bouncing on the heels on her feet and Sansa could tell that she was biting her lip in order to prevent herself from squealing. Robb placed his hands on her shoulders and laughed. Arya had turned around and hit him on the arm. Ned stood near them and his fatherly smile was perfectly in place. However, it slipped ever so slightly when he noticed Sansa's hand linked with Baelish's. Instead of saying anything, Ned simply turned and spoke to Edmure who was standing by his side. Edmure shook his head slightly, patted Ned on the shoulder before heading inside.

“Lord Baelish.” Edmure greeted civilly.

“Lord Tully.” Before Sansa could remark on the exchange a rider was let through the gates. It was a black horse and she could tell that there was very little luggage on the back of the horse and a pure white direwolf followed behind. A few servants approached and took the reins of horse. Jon Snow slowly climbed down off of the horse and Sansa took him in. As she remembered, he was dressed head to toe in black. He wore a fur coat that made him look broader than he actually was. His hair was long and curly as it ever had been. From a distance he seemed unchanged but Sansa knew differently. He had been marked by war, love and loss. 

Arya took off and ran straight toward Jon. Sansa saw a wide smile break out on his bearded face. Arya launched herself into his arms and Jon swung her around in a circle. Arya's feet were completely off the ground and her laugh could be heard throughout the courtyard. He put her down on the ground and looked at her.

“Well look at you. You almost look like a girl.” Jon laughed and Arya reached up to pitch him but he couldn't feel it through the thick fur of his coat. He laughed and hugged the girl again. The two of them took a few steps and Robb embraced his brother tightly. Ned stepped forward and took his son into his arms. They held each other for a few moments, saying a few words that Sansa couldn't hear. When they broke apart, Jon looked over his father's shoulder and saw Sansa. The looked that past across his face could only be described as deep sadness. “And there is the bride.”

Jon stepped forward and engulfed her in his arms. He squeezed her and Sansa buried her face into the furs of his coat. She inhaled the scent of musk and snow; it caused her to feel comfort and warmth. It had been so long since she had seen Jon. Letters and ravens have been sent and it was no secret that Ned has gone to the wall a few times in order to help with a few situations on the Wall but Jon has never been back to Winterfell since Bran’s death.

“I'm so sorry.” Jon whispered into her ear. Sansa stiffened slightly but eased up after a moment. She nearly forgot that he knew. He knew but promised never to say a word. He would have had all the reason in the world to and it would have been easy with all the times Ned has been to the wall. Yet, he kept his silence just has he kept the vows he made when he took the Black. 

“Don't be. I survived. In more ways than one.” Sansa pulled away slightly to look into his eyes. “I promise.” Jon looked at her as though he was searching for something; a sign of some type of weakness or a sign that she was broken. He only saw a women who was far stronger than she ever should have become.

“My gift?” The direwolf engraved dagger that was currently holstered on her calf. She rarely left her chambers without it. It was six months after her attack that she received the dagger from Jon. She never had to use it but it would only take the one time she would forget it or leave it behind, and that is when she would need it the most.

“I kept it on me; always.” With that Jon gave that frown that always seemed to be in place. She had forgotten such a detail about her brother. When she thought on him, it always amazed her how far he has come; he became Lord Commander of the Wall in just two years after taking the Black. She had forgotten how brooding he always seemed to be. He pulled away then and looked over her shoulder to her betrothed.

“You must be Lord Baelish.” Jon stated and held out his hand. Baelish took it and Sansa could tell that Jon was gripping it tightly. It was warning and a threat. 

“I am.” Baelish smirked at him in that manner that always made Sansa feel weak in the knees. Yet, he wasn't looking at her. Instead he was eyeing up her brother and Jon was doing exactly the same. “I have heard many things about you Jon Snow. Impressive things.”

“As I have you.” Jon stated. Neither were willing to let go of the others hand first. It appeared that they both wanted to have the last word. Jon's stoic face poured into Baelish's smug one. The longer Jon glared at him the wider Baelish's smirk grew. “You hurt my sister and I will kill you.”

“You're not the first person to threaten me with such violence.” Baelish replied, which was news to Sansa. She knew her father had actually caused him physical harm but she was foolish to think that it was the end. No, her father, Robb and possibly her Edmure threatened Baelish within an inch of his life. She could only imagine her betrothed's highly amused reactions.

“Don't make me be the last.” Jon threatened and let go of Baelish's hand. They continued to stare at each other and Sansa wondered if she should intervene but she could tell that Baelish was enjoying every moment of their interaction. It was as though he was calculating Jon's potential for something and once again, Sansa wondered what interest he had in her brother.

“Jon.” Ned's voice sounded and Jon broke eye contact with Baelish. “Why don't you get settled in? Join us for the evening meal and we can catch up.” Ned leaned in and hugged his son again. “It's good to have you home.”

“Thank you.” Jon smiled. Ned pulled away and Robb stepped up to hug Jon once again. It only lasted a moment before he broke away. Ned made his way into the castle while Jon turned to look at both Sansa and Arya, who was still bouncing on the heels of her feet. “Do my lovely sisters want to walk me to my chambers?” Arya laughed and launched herself onto his arm again. “And of course your ugly face is always welcome.” Jon indicated toward Robb. 

“I'll be in after a moment.” Sansa replied with a smile. Jon nodded and leaned in kiss Sansa on the cheek. Jon, Robb and Arya entered through the wooden doors as a servant grabbed the few belongings Jon brought with him. Sansa turned to look at Baelish and raised her eyebrow. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. He responded by linking his fingers together at the small of her back. “And what exactly was that?”

“I don't know what you mean.” Baelish replied with a smirk. Sansa laughed lightly and leaned in to kiss his lips. They were to be married in two days. If a servant saw them or someone else, then she didn't really care anymore. The kiss was gentle and sweet. When they broke apart Sansa smiled at him and laughed lightly.

“Liar.” She replied and Baelish smirked again. He leaned in to kiss her again but Sansa placed her finger on his lips. Baelish's grin widened and kiss the tip of her finger. He was being playful and Sansa couldn't help but giggle. Moments like these were rare and she wanted to cherish them but her curiosity was eat at her. “What exactly do you want with Jon?”

“Your brother is far more...interesting than even you know. More interesting than even he knows.” He bit her finger lightly before leaning in to kiss her again. This kiss was more forceful and once they broke apart, Baelish took her bottom lip in between his teeth. “I will tell you one day Sweetling but not yet. I have an inkling of greater things but I want to see where the stones will fall first.” With that, he pecked her lips and pulled away from her. She narrowed her eyes at him in mock fury which only caused him to laugh. He moved away from her and walked inside the castle.

Sansa sighed in frustration. That was the first real contact they had been allowed in days and it only caused her to yearn for more. She knew it was because she couldn't have him, which only made her want him more. Part of her wondered if he was enjoying this torture she was enduring. At night she couldn't but allow her hand to wonder down her body, hoping to ease that tension she continuously felt.

She pulled herself from her musings and looked around. She noticed how a few of the stables boys and the servant girl pulling water from the well were giving her side glances. She didn't care, not anymore. They could gossip and laugh all they wanted, in two days’ time she would be married to him and any action she wanted to take with her husband, she could do so. No a single person would have the right to judge her for it.

Sansa glared at them all and made her way into the castle to look for Jon, Arya and Robb. She knew her mother would hold herself up in her daughter's chambers in order to avoid Ned's bastard. Baelish would be in search of her father and uncle to discuss matters of business while Jon spent the afternoon with his siblings. Perhaps for a few hours she can allow herself to slip into the girl she used to be. Perhaps she could block the nightmare that the six year winter had brought them. Perhaps she could allow herself to be Sansa Stark for one last time before she had to say goodbye to Winterfell forever.


	23. Chapter 23

On the day of her wedding, Sansa awoke in her chambers one final time. She laid in her bed, staring at the wooden ceiling letting her nerves get the better of her. Never again will she wake in this room. Never again would she see the sun pear through that window first thing in the morning. She would never feel these sheets and that fur against her skin. Laid before her were the last few hours she would spend as Sansa Stark. It was utterly terrifying but equally exhilarating. 

Part of her felt like it wasn't even happening. Before her life turned into a nightmare, Sansa had always dreamed what her wedding would be life. She knew that her family would insist on a Northern wedding, which she was perfectly fine with but she thought there would be more to do, more to plan. Yet, there was nothing but a few short decisions. Her mother handled everything, only asking her input on what she wanted her wedding clothes to be like and the food that would be served. 

There were not many people who would be attending the wedding. Besides a cousin who still lived in the Fingers, Baelish didn't have much in the way of family. Seeing that her entire family lived in Winterfell, beyond Jon and her Uncle Edmure, there wasn't anyone to invite. The wedding would be small and she preferred it that way. No longer did she want to make a big event out of it.

Jeyne had been completely frazzled and anxious for her wedding, wanting everything to be perfect but Sansa felt nothing of that sort. She wasn't frenzied or stressed. Nothing like that hit her until that very moment. She was getting married. Today and she was terrified. It wasn't the thought of Baelish and having him by her side that scared her but the thought of what their life would be like. How dangerous her life would be. 

King's Landing. Joffery. Cersei. All of them. They were the ones who scared her. The life she would be leading would include, death, blood and it could possibly destroy any part of her that was left. It would eat away at her until she was someone unrecognizable. The only part that she was certain about was the groom. Baelish made her feel comfortable and safe. She knew he was dangerous and that he could ruin her so easily if things went wrong. 

It scared her how he could break her. He made promises and she knew he would deliver. While he may withhold information from her, he has never lied to her. She remembered the look he gave Theon when he had put his hands on her. It was murderous, cold, and if she hadn't begged him, Theon would be dead by now. He would kill for her. Sansa was beginning to realize that, when it came to him, she might do the same.

The way she felt for him, it was deeper than she expected. She desired him, that was certain but it went beyond simple lust. When he sat beside her or just looked at her, there were these knots in her stomach and a warmth that spread through her. She liked to listen to him speak and really hear what he had to say. Perhaps it was because they were about to be married in a few hours but Sansa had the sudden urge to see him. 

Sansa was pulled from her thoughts when her door opened. Arya stepped in and closed the door behind her. She was still dressed in her sleeping chase with a black robe wrapped around her. She kicked off her boots and Sansa sat up with a smile. She opened her arms and Arya launched herself into them. They both laughed as the fell backward onto the bed. Arya curled underneath the fur covers and snuggled up to her sister.

“This is the last time we will be able to do this.” Arya whispered as she laid her head down against her shoulder. Sansa wrapped her arms around her sister and began to run her fingers through her hair. She knew that she would miss Arya but she suddenly realized that Arya would miss her. She wasn't sure what her sister would do in her absence but she wondered what her day would be like and if she would continue with her fencing. She knew Arya would but she suddenly realized that she would miss it all. 

“I wouldn't say that. We can do this when you come and visit us.” Sansa stated with a smile. After Baelish had promised to allow her sister to come to King's Landing whenever she felt the need to see her, she had decided that she would some how convince their father to allow that to happen. Arya suddenly laughed, pulling Sansa from her thoughts. 

“I'm sure your new husband would have an issue with his sister-in-law crawling into his bed.” Arya laughed and Sansa's face grew red. It dawned on her that she would be sharing a bed with Baelish. While she dreamed about the night they shared in her father's solar and anticipated having him between her legs again, it never really occurred to her Baelish would share her bed every night. In order to brush off her embarrassment she placed her hands on her face and laughed. 

“I didn't think of that.” Sansa stated and Arya giggled at her embarrassment. 

“Obviously.” Arya stated through a smile. “But I do have good news. Father pulled me aside last night and asked if I wanted to accompany them to the Twins.” Sansa got excited and sat up. Her smile grew as did Arya's. “I already have my trunk packed.” Sansa squealed and hugged her sister just in time for their mother to enter. She smiled at the exchange between siblings. She coughed lightly and the two girls broke apart. A few servants entered the chamber, carrying a large basin and a few buckets of steaming hot water. 

“Arya, Sansa needs a bath. Why don't you get dressed and the two of you can continue the bonding once she is finished.” Catelyn stated with a small smile. Arya nodded and jumped off the bed. She slipped her boots back on and walked around the bed to Sansa. She hugged her tightly and whispered how happy she was for her. The younger girl left the room but stopped one last time to shoot her sister a wide smile. 

Catelyn fussed around the chamber, making sure everything was in order. The servants continued to fill the basin as well and a few of them moved to make up the bed. Others started to build a fire in the fireplace. Sansa moved to the window, looking outside to see the North from that view one last time. However, her eye drawn to two people on the ground. Sansa's window faced north and in the far distance she could see the Wall. What she rarely saw were people below her window, yet both Baelish and Jon seemed to be in a rather heated discussion. Sansa slowly opened the window in order to see them better. 

Jon ran his fingers through his dark curls, a piece of paper gripped in the other. He was pacing while Baelish just leaned against the stone wall with his arms crossed. Sansa could tell that he said something because Jon held up his hand to silence him. After a moment Jon stated something and stormed off away from Baelish. He stood there for a moment and then looked up. He saw her standing in the window and she could tell that his lips formed that smirk that she loved. He raised his hand and gave her a gentle wave but she only returned it with the quirk of her eyebrow. 

“Sansa! It's freezing.” It was cold but not freezing. Catelyn never really adapted to the North's harsh weather. “Close the window before it cools your bath.” Catelyn stated and rushed over to the window to pull it shut. When she saw Baelish on the ground below, she pursed her lips into a thin line. She shut the window and ushered Sansa into the steaming hot water. The warmth engulfed her and the hairs on her pale skin stood at the change. She sank beneath the surface for a moment, allowing her hair to become drenched. 

Sansa allowed herself to be poked and prodded by servants and her mother. She was scrubbed to an inch of her life but her mind was occupied to really notice. Her mother and the servant girls all assumed it was wedding nerves that kept her silent. While she was nervous, it was the disagreement she just witnessed that filled her thoughts. Baelish made it no secret that he was interested in Jon but he never told her why and she never really inquired after her curiosity. Perhaps that was a mistake. 

Once the bath was complete, Sansa pulled herself out of the water and into the chilly air. Catelyn wrapped her daughter in a robe and brought her to sit by the fire. They slowly towel dried her hair as Catelyn prattled on about something of another, yet Sansa paid her no mind. She watched the crackle of the flames and realized that the ice inside of her was beginning to melt. The fire consumed her. She may be a daughter of the North but children leave their home eventually to become someone else. The cold wouldn't be in her forever. 

Once she was dry, Sansa dressed quickly and made some excuse to her mother about wanting to find Arya. She felt a slight twinge of guilt because this was the last morning her mother had with her daughter before she was a married women but she couldn't hold in her curiosity anymore. If she was going to spend her life with him, she was going to demand answers. She roamed the castle looking for him and it wasn't until she neared her father's solar that she found him. She would have missed him if his hand hadn't slipped into her's, pulling her into a darkened conclave. It was a tight space and Sansa found herself pushed up against the stone wall. Baelish put a finger to his lips, asking her to be silent. So she listened and what she heard was arguing. The voices belonged to Jon and her father.

“You should have told me!?” Jon's furious voice sounded through the stone walls. It echoed and it sent a chill right through her. She had never heard her brother that angry before. He has argued with Robb, as brother's often do, but she never heard such rage before.

“I was doing what I thought was best.” Ned replied in a stern voice. It wasn't as forceful as Jon's but Sansa could hear a hint of desperation in it. “I was waiting for the right time, which never seemed to come!” 

“The right time!? When? I'm not a child and I haven't been for years! You've been to the Wall dozens of times in the last six years and not even then have you mentioned it! I asked and I asked but not once would you answer me!” Jon shouted. 

“I was protecting you!”

“Protecting! Protecting?!” Jon stopped yelling and silence took over. After a moment, Jon spoke again but it was quieter this time. “I can't do this right now. If it wasn't for Sansa getting married today I would have left already but I will stay for her sake. I will leave at first light as planned but after that I will need time. Don't come to the Wall unless I ask you too.” With that Sansa heard the solar door open and saw Jon storm past. In his fury, he didn't even notice the bride and groom lurking in the shadows. Once they heard the solar door close again and a few footsteps heading in the opposite direction, Baelish released Sansa from the wall. 

They moved out into the light and Sansa turned the argument she just her over in her head. Ned had been keeping secrets from Jon and whatever it was, Jon felt that he had the right to know. She turned to look at Baelish and she placed her hands on her hips. They have never really argued but she felt as though this would be their first. 

“What was that?” 

“An argument.” Baelish replied with a coy smile upon his lips. He was proud of himself and was more than willing to show it. That only caused Sansa to grow more impatient. She knew he was stubborn and secretive, she was going into this marriage with that knowledge on hand but it didn't mean that was any less frustrating. 

“Don't be cute Petyr.” Sansa snapped. “What was that about?” He didn't reply but just looked at her and Sansa huffed in frustration. That only caused Baelish's smirk to grow wider. “We are to be married in a few hours, so if you want our marriage to start off in a good place you will be honest and tell me what you and Jon were discussing this morning under my window because whatever it was caused a rift between him and my father.” Baelish was silent for a moment before sighing in defeat. 

“You are far more dangerous than I thought.” He stated, echoing the words he once said to her in her family's crypt. Only this time he didn't lean in to kiss her. “I've always found Jon interesting and when he agreed to come to the wedding I was most pleased.”

“Why?”

“Because I always found it odd that the honorable and nobel Ned Stark would ever have an affair that would lead to a bastard child. If the rumors were true about the Lord of Winterfell, Jon Snow should have never been born.” Baelish stated. He placed his hands in her's and Sansa let him. He began to run his thumbs over her knuckles.“Unless he lied.” 

“My father's isn't a liar.” 

“Being a liar is something far better than being an adulterer.” He placed his hand on her cheek and looked directly into her eyes. “I'm a liar. I lie everyday but I would never be an adulterer.” She knew that Baelish would never bed another women. She would never have to worry about his bastard children running around and she found comfort in that. 

“Please don't lie to me.” Sansa didn't know if she could handle having to always question his words and wondering if he was being honest with her. She would spend a lifetime picking through everything he said in order to give herself some piece of mind. So she begged him to be honest with her. She looked him directly in his grey-green eyes and begged him, something she was not accustomed to doing. 

“Okay.” Baelish took a deep breath. “A few years ago a maester came into my employ. Before his death..” He paused when Sansa raised her eyebrow, causing him to smirk. “Of natural causes I assure you. Before his death he told about a child he helped deliver in the middle of King Robert's rebellion and in exchange for his silence he was paid a healthy sum of gold dragons. The news of this child caused me to learn many things. The first was that your father has never been unfaithful to your mother.”

“I don't understand.” Sansa shook her head. Her father had been unfaithful. Once. He made one mistake and he spent the rest of his life paying for it. Everyday, Catelyn still looked at Ned with a small heartbroken look and Sansa was sure that he wouldn't have allowed himself to deal with his wife's torture unless he deserved such treatment. 

“The mother, was Lyanna Stark and Jon Snow is her bastard.” Sansa moved away from him and shook her head in disbelief. Baelish moved and wrapped his arms around her middle. His hands rested on her stomach and she linked her fingers through his.“I knew this was going to hurt you and I'm sorry for that. It is why I was hesitant to tell you.” Baelish's tone held concern and she believed him. 

“Who is the father?” Her voice was hollow and numb. 

“I don’t know.” Baelish stated and Sansa gave him an incredulous look. Baelish smirked. “I honestly don’t know. I have two theories but there is no way of actually proving them. Whoever the father is and depending on Jon’s decisions from this point forward, hopefully it will be to our advantage.” Baelish stated and Sansa didn’t respond. Instead she just gave him a look. “King Robert has, in the past, insinuated that when he and Lyanna were betrothed to each other, they anticipated their marriage vows. If his words are true and not just wishful thinking on his part, she would have to be pregnant before she ran off with Rhaegar Targaryen. I do not believe Jon to be King Robert’s bastard but if he is, then he is rightful heir to the Seven Kingdoms.”

“But King Robert has several bastard children. If Jon is King Robert’s child, what makes him the heir over any of the others?” Sansa asked. She was shutting down her emotions, trying to allow her thoughts to clear. She couldn’t let this emotionally affect her and Baelish needed her to be able to focus. Jon would always be Jon to her, no matter what his parentage was. She loved him either way. Once her thoughts where clear, she was able to process Baelish’s words more clearly. “Wait, you said ‘ran off’. Aunt Lyanna was kidnapped? Wasn’t she?”

“Such a quick mind. It’s one of the things I adore about you. No, Lyanna was never kidnapped. She fell in love with Rhaegar Targaryen. She left with him willingly and she died close to eight months after the tourney at Harrenhal, in childbirth. Your father was present at the birth and promised his sister that he would protect her child. So, he pawned the child off as his own in order to protect him.” Sansa didn’t say anything but stayed still in Baelish’s arms. “On the off chance that Jon is King Robert’s bastard, he would be the heir to the throne because the king has no true born heirs and Jon would be his eldest living son. If the king knew that Lyanna bore him a child, a son, he would have no concern over disowning the children he thinks he has with Cersei and allowing Jon to take the throne. However, Cersei would have had Jon killed before allowing him on the throne. But, it is far more likely that Rhaegar was his father and if that is the case, the king would be the one to have him murdered and he wouldn't think twice about it, and possibly your father as well for keeping Jon from him. 

The reality of the situation started to hit her hard and the anger she felt for her father started to fade. She understood why her father made the choices he made. If she had been in Lyanna’s circumstances and she had borne Baelish’s child out of wedlock and she died because of it, she would hope that Robb would protect that child if Baelish was unable to do so. She couldn’t hate her father for the lie and it actually caused her to respect and love him more for it. Perhaps he would understand why she lied about the Wildings attacking her. Both lies were born out of love.

“And you told Jon this?” Sansa asked, turning in her lover’s arms. Wouldn’t it have been safer for Jon and all of those involved for this secret to remain exactly that, a secret? The only thing that she could see accomplished was a feud between her father and Jon, something she wished she could be angry at Baelish for. However, the news of Jon’s possible parentage and the combination of their wedding only being a few hours away caused her to be far too exhausted to feel any anger. “What purpose did it serve?”

“I don’t know. It all depends on Jon’s actions and what he does with the news. It could amount to nothing. But, if it does amount to something, this could protect us in the end. Jon would never harm you, in anyway and I’m hoping that he would feel indebted to me for telling him the truth.” Baelish turned Sansa around in his arms and took her face into his hands. “This is the game Sweetling. This is how it is played. Gambles and risks and sometimes you won’t always know what the outcome will be. Sometimes you will hurt the ones you love in the process. I’m doing this to protect us. You and me. That is my concern, first and foremost. Always.” He pleaded with her. “Do you understand?” 

Sansa wanted to hit him and to be angry with him but this was the life she signed up for. This was the life she was preparing to lead. If causing a mere argument between her father and the man she thought was her brother, then she had no business being in such a life. She knew that it was never going to be easy. So, she did exactly what she did with Jeyne. She was going to push her concerns and her guilt aside. She was going to accept whatever the game threw at her and the consequences that came along with it.

“Yes. I understand.” Sansa whispered and Baelish leaned in to kiss her on the lips. It was gentle and kind. He knew she was upset but she was willing to accept his actions. He would have to get used to including her in his schemes. It would be a hard lesson to learn but he was willing to try for her. The kiss lasted for a few minutes before the broke apart.

“Now, let us not worry about this anymore today. It is out of our hands for now. Let us worry about what is taking place in a few hours.” Baelish took her hands into his and smirked. The nervous knot in her stomach returned and Sansa couldn’t help but smile widely at him. Baelish couldn’t help himself and he leaned in and kissed her again. “There she is. My Sweetling.” Kiss. “Go. We both have things to accomplish. The next time I see you will be in the Godswood and you will be my wife.” With that, Baelish kissed Sansa one last time before leaving her standing in the stone corridor, watching as he retreated from her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had thought about dragging out the Jon mystery longer, I decided against it because I figured everyone would figure it out. I mean L+R=J is a common theory. Petyr will wait for Jon to make a move (or not) and make a move depending out the outcome. 
> 
> Now, I'm sure you all can guess what will happen in the next chapter. I will try and have it out soon.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ladies and gentlemen (if I have any male readers) here is the chapter you all have been waiting for.

The day grew colder and the clouds opened up, causing snow to be released from the sky. The snow graced everything it could touch, lying there, pure and innocent. White covered the land and it gave a beautiful hue to Winterfell. It was a true winter day as the snow continued to fall. The castle was as cold as it was quiet. The only sound that could be echoed through the stone corridors was the flicker of the touches. The servants were busy and only a few whispers could be heard.

It was as though the castle was deserted and Sansa knew it was because everyone was congregated at the Weirwood. The servants would all be in the kitchens or the dining all, preparing for the feast that would be held after the ceremony. For the first time in hours she was completely alone. The servants had been dismissed, asked to attend to other tasks and her mother and sister had left her to her thoughts. Sansa sat at her vanity and looked at herself in the mirror.

Her red hair was braided into an elaborate bun on the top of her head. The bright color of her hair caused a huge contrast against the white of her skin. She looked like winter personified and it made her fully realize that these were the last few moments she would spend as Sansa Stark. She looked around her chambers and there was nothing left. It was stripped to its bones and there was no sign of her anywhere in it. Arya's laughter was nowhere to be found. Her trunk had been removed hours earlier. The red and blue blanket that her mother had made her no longer hung over the rocking chair in the corner. This chamber belonged to Sansa Stark but Sansa Stark no longer existed. She realized how she so readily let go of the girl she was in exchange for the woman she was becoming. However, this chamber would always be haunted by the ghost of Sansa Stark.

She felt so alone in that moment. The quiet began to eat away at her, silence by silence. She leaned against the wooden post of the bed she would no longer sleep in. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She yearned for something, anything; some type of noise to indicate that time was moving forward. She had been standing still in her existence for so long that she wanted nothing more than time to catch up with her.

A knock echoed through the chamber and Sansa rushed to the door. She opened the door forcefully and saw her father, Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of North standing in the corridor. He was dressed impeccably from head to toe. Even his light brown was pulled back instead of simply hanging around his face. Sansa saw that beneath his eyes were red; he had been crying. Sansa looked at him with deep sadness and wrapped her arms around him. Ned buried his face into her neck and let out a sob. He held so tightly that she almost couldn't breathe. Eventually he let go of her and placed his hands on her shoulder.

“You don't have to do this. If you want to end this engagement, it's not too late.” Ned stated in a hoarse and hallow voice. Sansa couldn't look at him so she turned her eyes downward. She took her hand and eased an imaginary crease out of her snow colored dress. Her wedding dress was pure white as freshly fallen snow. Her shoulders were covered by fur that rivaled Ghost's thick coat. The fur was attached to an intricate outer coat that was held together by two silver fish pins. “Please.”

“I don't have to do this but I want to.” Sansa leaned up and kissed his cheek, something she had always done as a child. It felt right to do it one last time at his unmarried daughter. As her lips touched his cheek she could feel the soft tears fall from his eyes. When she broke away, she reached up and wiped a stray tear away. “I still love you all. That will never change.”

“You've always been so beautiful.” Ned stated in a whisper. He took a deep breath and held out his arm. With one last look around her chambers, Sansa slid her arm into his. She said one finale goodbye and closed the door behind her. Neither of them spoke as they walked through Winterfell. She could feel him tense with each step. They paused at the giant wooden doors for Ned to pick up the lantern that had been waiting for them on the stone steps. When the stepped fully into the outdoors, Sansa closed her eyes. The snow was still falling but only just slightly and she wanted to feel the flakes land on her face before they moved forward.

The Godswood felt alive. The breeze pushed the leaves, but gently. The branches creaked, welcoming her into their mist. Lanterns, similar to one Ned held in his hand, lit the way deeper into the darken wood. Sansa could feel the snow crunch beneath her boots. With each step along the snow covered path, she killed the girl and the woman was born. A crowd of black was ahead, mingling in the glow of the lanterns. Not a single color could be seen beyond the red of the Weirwood that stood tall and proud. As they approached, the crowed parted and created an aisle between them. As they slowly walked between the crowd, she could feel their eyes on her but she only saw two figures standing ahead. They both stood still as statues, neither moving.

Sansa saw him then. Baelish stood a ways back from her brother, and the look upon his face made her feel powerful. She read desire, anguish, longing, fear, excitement and so much more in each crease of his face. She couldn't help but smirk in triumph at him. His dark clothes were elegant as ever and his mockingbird pin gleamed in contrast to the dark fabric. When they stood directly in front him, she saw his finger's flex, itching to reach out to her. Baelish's apparent need for her caused her to be able to put the final nail in her coffin. A goodbye never felt so perfect before.

“Who comes before the Old God's this night?” Robb's voice sounded from in front of Baelish. His tone was firm and hard. It was as though if he allowed any emotion beyond steel to be voiced, he might completely crack and allow his perfectly crafted mask to come tumbling down around him.

“Sansa, of the House Stark, comes here to be...” Ned breathed in and swallowed, “to be wed. A women grown, true-born and noble. She comes to beg the blessing of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?” His voice broke at the last part. She squeezed his arm slightly but she never took her eyes off of Baelish. He stepped forward, aligning himself next to the Heir of Winterfell.

“Petyr, of House Baelish, Lord of Harrenhal, Protector of the Vale and Master of Coin. Who gives her?” Baelish's voice washed over her as though she was coming up for air for the very first time. His voice and his presence allowed her to breathe again after drowning for so long. The ice on the water cracked and Sansa thawed as though his voice was a ray light beaming down upon her.

“Eddard, of the House Stark. Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North and her father.” His voice was stronger than before and it was as though he had surrendered in battle. It was the same voice he used when he was forced to execute a deserter from the Wall. It was a voice that he hated but used when the situation was warranted.

“Lady Sansa, do you take this man?” Robb asked and Sansa just smiled. She suddenly realized that she was crying. The tears fell from her eyes freely but it wasn't out of sadness. She could taste the salt on her lips but she continued to smile. Baelish looked at her as though she was the world laid out in front of him. She felt as though she was everything he had worked for and that she was his reward. Maybe he was her's.

“Yes.” It was just above a whisper but they heard it. Baelish smiled that boyish smile and it made her heart lurch. Ned took her hand and slowly placed it into Baelish's. It took him a moment to let go. When she finally felt Ned's hand slowly slide completely out of her's, her hand was engulfed by Baelish's. Ned stepped back allowing Sansa to move forward and stand completely beside Baelish.

“Lord Baelish, do you take this woman?”

“Yes.” The word sound and one final breeze blew past them, causing the flames to flicker. Baelish leaned in and place his lips upon hers. The kiss was gentle, slow and almost innocent. It lasted only a moment but it was so much more than any other kiss they shared. This was the kiss that killed Sansa Stark and allowed Sansa Baelish to be reborn.

Lord and Lady Baelish turned, with their hands still locked together, to face those who witnessed the ceremony. A dozen faces peered at them, all with tear stained eyes. Not one smile was among them yet the tears were not all born out of sadness. They were the tears of realizing how finale this all was. Sansa was gone and yet she stood there in front of them. Each member of her family stepped forward and took the bride into their arms. Arya was first, with tears streaming down her eyes. Sansa could never, in living memory remember seeing her sister cry. Not even when Bran died. Robb was next and then was followed by Jon. Being in their arms felt like comfort and a home that had been long forgotten. Her mother was next. Catelyn was a mess of tears trailing down her face and then finally, her father stood in front of her. He placed his hands on her shoulders, squeezed and pulled her into a tight embrace. Baelish stood back, allowing her this moment before he took her hand again, linking his fingers with her’s.

Slowly they began to walk down the aisle together, the crowd slowly following behind them. The closer they reached the gates of Winterfell, the more the chatter of the crowd began to grow. It never became loud or boisterous but instead it was calm and collected. Neither Baelish nor Sansa spoke a word. They just allowed the moment to overtake them. Winterfell drew near and the crowd entered its ancient walls. Calm and methodic music could be heard coming from the dining hall.

Sansa hadn't noticed before but the corridor was filled with the same lanterns that lit the pathway in the Godswood. She had never seen Winterfell so beautiful. This was her last night sleeping in its walls and she never before realized how divine it was. She wondered if Harrenhal would be as ravishing. She looked over to her husband and knew that he would make it that way for her if she so desired.

The dining hall was decorated far more elegantly than it had been for Jeyne's wedding. The decorations were simple, ivory hanging on the walls with white roses lingering in the vines. The same lanterns filled the hall with light causing shadows to dance on the stone walls. The wooden tables were lined up in a way that caused them to face the high table. Baelish led her to the high table and held her chair for her. She sat down and watched those around her file in and take their seats. The wedding was far smaller than Jeyne's but far more elegant.

“Are you well Sweetling?” Baelish asked in a calm tone. He placed his hand on her forearm gently. She looked at his hand and realized that he could touch her in any way he pleased. In return, she received the same privilege. There would be no one to oversee them. Her mother wouldn't be lurking around a corner, waiting for them to step out of line. They were bounded together in a way that couldn't be broken.

“I'm perfect.” Sansa replied and Baelish smiled widely. He leaned in and kissed her again. It wasn't a powerful or passionate kiss but it was something deeper. She could feel him smile against her lips and it caused Sansa to laugh. It was a joyous laugh that echoed throughout the dining hall. The eyes of her family watched her. She continued to laugh and they realized that it was the first time they heard it in a very long time. They couldn't understand why they never noticed it missing before.

“Me too.”

Music began to play in a more boisterous tone. The noise level began to grow as the wine flowed and the tension eased. Ned move to sit on her other side and he placed his hand gently on her arm while her other hand remained linked with Baelish's. She turned to her father and gave him a warm, light smile. He returned the smile in kind and she realized he didn't seem so sad anymore. While he appeared far from happy, he seemed far more content than the man who had just given her away.

The small party grew joyful and laughter could be heard ringing throughout the dining hall. Sansa just sat and enjoyed the meal, the company and felt complete for the first time in years. Baelish squeezed her hand gently, causing her to turn and face him. He still wore that boyish smile that she grew to adore. He seemed happy to be there and happy with her. He may not have been what she was expecting in life but he was far better than any knight she could have wished for.

He seemed so relaxed and content. He never let go of her hand and he would periodically glance over at her. She wondered if he felt the as jittery as she did. It was clear that he was pleased and it was more than just one of his schemes being successful. It was as though she was more than just a piece in his game. She knew that he was using her in many of the same ways she was using him but their relationship was so much more than that. It was built on lies, deceit and the darkest of plans but their foundation was as solid as it could be.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are tonight?” Baelish asked her softly. He raised her hand to his lips and that naughty smirk replaced the boyish smile. Sansa could tell that his mood had shifted and he felt playful. She always enjoyed him when he was in a mischievous state of mind. Trouble usually followed but she was certain that any trouble he caused on this night she would certainly enjoy. No one had the right or ability to separate them now.

“No. But it was implied.” Sansa stated and returned his smirk with a matching one of her own. His eyes flickered to her father to make sure he was distracted. Catelyn, whose eyes were still red, had moved to sit by her husband and had him occupied. Baelish leaned in toward his new bride and she could feel his warm breath grace her skin. He kissed her cheek briefly before moving toward her ear.

“I will greatly enjoy being buried inside you tonight, Lady Baelish.” His tone was husky and it made her squirm in her seat. “And you, my dear wife, will be hoarse in the morning from screaming my name.” He kissed her cheek again and it made her shiver to feel his lips on her skin again. Once he pulled away she bit her bottom lip in order to keep her from whimpering. She turned to look at him and saw that smug smile on his lips. Sansa narrowed her eyes in mock fury which caused him to laugh. He raised his eyebrow at her and Sansa huffed. 

“Behave.” She whispered to him. His eyes traveled over her body in desire and his smirk grew wider.

“Never.” Her thoughts went into a frenzy. The memory of his chest pressed against her. The taste and smell of him filled her senses and it caused Sansa to breathe deeply. She dug her nails into the wood of the chair and she was certain that she would cause herself to have splinters. Sansa was anxious, wanting time to move faster. The entire day had moved slowly and Sansa thought the moment she was yearning for would never come. She felt a hand on her arm and turned to see her father looking at her in concern.

“Sansa. Are you alright?” Ned asked. His brows were knit together in a worried manner. His eyes roamed her face, which she could only assume she was as bright as her hair. She certainly felt flushed and it didn’t help that she could feel her husband laughing beside her. She would have to speak to him about that later.

“I’m fine. It’s just warm in here, that’s all.” Sansa replied and Ned seemed pacified. He nodded and moved away slightly. Deciding that he didn’t want to be seated any longer, Ned stood from the table and made his way toward the table that held her siblings. She felt a slight wave of guilt when Jon’s face became stony and cold as Ned approached. Ned touched Jon on his shoulder and the younger man pursed his lips. Ned whispered something into Jon’s ear and the younger man nodded. The two of them moved away into a corner but didn’t leave the dining hall.

The shock of Jon’s parentage still ran through her. To her, Jon would always be her brother. For a time she considered him below her because of his bastard status but once she grew as a person, she realized just how wonderful he was. It didn’t matter to her who his true parents were, she still loved him. She just felt guilty for his pain and how her father was scrambling to be in his good graces again. 

Collateral damage.

His pain and anyone else’s would be collateral damage in the game of thrones. People would die, she knew this. She was prepared to set the world ablaze in order to achieve her goal, but it didn’t make it any easier. She would do things that she wished she didn’t have to. Sansa turned to look at her new husband. His eyes were also trained to the conversation between Ned and Jon. She took his moment of distraction to observe him.

They were so similar she realized. Both of them loved someone who hurt them deeply and that love nearly got them killed. Such love hardened them and pushed them into darkness. They both were willing to do things that were considered amoral in order to get what they wanted. She knew that Baelish had done things in the past that she couldn’t even contemplate doing. He had his fair share of blood on his hands and she knew that in time, she would join him there. He had married Lysa, a women he despised simply in order to gain something he needed. Sansa was certain she would never be able do such a thing. She only planned on being married once.

Sansa reached out and took his hand again. Baelish turned to look at her. She had the urge to drag him from the dining hall but the bedding ceremony wouldn’t occur for some time. It wouldn't be prudent for her to leave the feast early, no matter how much she wanted to. She was certain that Baelish wouldn't mind the thought of her dragging him away from the feast and if he knew that she even considered it, he might promote the idea. She looked around and realized that while people would glance their way, no one could hear them over the noise. She smirked as a wicked idea sprung to mind. 

“Tell me Lord Baelish, how loud will I be screaming?” She asked innocently. She grabbed a slice lemon cake and allowed the center to smear on her fingers. Slowly, she licked each of her fingers, one by one. Each one would enter her mouth and she would suck them until they were clean. Once her fingers were clear of lemon, she picked up a dining towel and wiped her lips. She saw his eyes trail down to her lips and his tongue licked his.

“Loud enough that even your father will hear you.” Baelish shifted and Sansa could tell that he was uncomfortable and aroused. “And in the morning, you will be walking bow legged and he will know that I defiled and penetrated his daughter, thoroughly and often.” He smirked at her and reached across her in order to grab a lemon cake. His arms brushed across her chest, causing her to suck in a breath. He placed the lemon cake in his mouth, looking completely pleased with himself. 

“While that sounds delectable, I would strongly advise against me voice my pleasure so thoroughly.” Sansa stated in a tone that she hoped made her sound unaffected. She failed and they both knew it. Baelish seemed too smug to be concerned by her lack of interest. They knew that their night would not be filled with sleep but instead they would be indulging in their desires that they have been denied.

“And why would that be?” 

“Because I would hate to be a widow so soon after becoming a bride.” Sansa replied with a smirk and Baelish burst out laughing. His laughter attracted a few looks but it was fleeting because a loud bang sounded from the other side of the dining hall. The wooden doors burst open and a haggard man rushed in. Sansa recognized him but couldn't recall his name. His hair was long and untidy. His cloak was disheveled and even from the distance she was across the hall, she could tell that he seemed out of breath. The music stopped and everyone looked at him in question.

“The King! The King is dead! The King is dead!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, I feel like this is one of the best piece of writing I have done in a very long time. I wanted their wedding to be compared to a funeral in many ways because Sansa is saying goodbye to being a Stark. She is letting go of the idea of being nobel, brave and honorable. She is becoming a Baelish, which is something far darker than she is used to. She is burying the old girl she used to be.
> 
> and then there is the ending of course...
> 
> I expect reviews. LOL


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are!

Baelish's chamber was bigger than she expected. There was a wooden four-poster bed pressed against the back wall and a fur carpet covered the floor. His trunk was nestled against the end of the bed and she noticed that her's was pushed up against the wall, under the window. She knew that the servants had moved the trunk the day before, something she found odd seeing that it would be loaded onto a carriage the following day. Sansa's eyes traveled to the bed again and saw the elegant furs that covered the feather mattress. Of course her husband insist on the best. Part of her wanted to drag her new husband to the bed and let him throw her down upon it.

However, she was far too angry to allow him that privilege just yet. The King was dead, killed by a boar that he was hunting. A perfect death and easily blameless. The King was dead. Something that was the last thing she could possibly want. If the King was dead, then Joffery would sit upon the Iron Throne and she would have to pledge her loyalty to him. The thought of Joffery being king made her stomach twist in disgust. The damage a psychopath could do when he had an entire county in his hands was enormous. He could potentially eradicate an entire kingdom and he would feel no guilt in doing so. Instead he would receive pleasure in such actions.

Sansa turned about the room and looked at the candles that were lit, causing a small amount of light to dance around the walls. It caused a romantic and lustful atmosphere that under other circumstances, Sansa would have taken full advantage of. She heard the door close behind her with a quick snap. She turned to see her husband standing by the door, eyeing her closely. Her posture stiffened and she crossed her arms. When the news that the King was dead had rung across the dining hall, she had turned to Baelish and saw the lack of surprise on his face.

Her husband walked toward her slowly with a tentative look upon his face. He was worried and frightened, something that pleased her. They always said that the worst fight was always the first and they were about to have a fight on an epic sale. He placed his hands on the side of her arms and looked her directly in the eyes. His eyes pleaded for her to understand but she was far too angry for her to even think of brushing this aside.

“Sansa-” Baelish's words were cut off when Sansa raised her hand and brought it down across the side of his face. The sharp smack echoed around the room and bounced off the stones. He moved his jaw in discomfort and brought his hand to his face to rub the place where her hand connected with his skin. She raised her hand to hit him again but he grabbed her wrist. His hold wasn't crushing as Theon's but instead it was gentle and loose. “Sansa, let me explain.”

“Did you know?” She spat at him. Baelish opened his mouth to reply but before she would even allow him to speak, she placed her finger on his lips. “Don't you dare lie to me. You promised me this morning, on our wedding day that you would never lie to me. So help the Old Gods if you break that promise already. Did you know that the King was going to die?” Her tone was fierce and hard. Baelish kissed her finger before taking her hand and kissing her palm. 

“Sinister things are happening in King's Landing.” The words echoed and her mind flashed to her family crypt. The place he kissed her for the first time. The place where she learned the truth about Joffery and his siblings. The place where he gave her that first warning. He knew the King would die the entire time he had known her, perhaps even longer. He knew what Joffery had done to her and yet left out the information that when they reached King's Landing, Joffery would be King. Perhaps he thought she would have changed her mind about marrying him. Would she have? She didn't know.

“Did you have a hand in it? Did you help kill the King?” It came out as a whisper. A desperate whisper. She closed her eyes and allowed the tears to leak out. Baelish pulled her to him and she realized that she had been shaking. The fear was getting to her, consuming her.

“No. I promise you that I did not help murder the King.” Baelish placed both of his hands on her tear stained face. “But I know who did.” She opened her eyes and saw the sincerity in his eyes. He wanted her to understand and Sansa forced herself to be willing to listen. She wanted to blame him but she believed him when he said that he didn't help murder the King. That brought some comfort.

“Who did?”

“The Queen.” Sansa remembered how disgusted Cersei had been with her husband each time they visited Winterfell. It was obvious that she loved her position but despised her husband. It came as no surprise to Sansa that Cersei would be the one who arranged his death. “She started planning before I left King's Landing a year ago. When her father, Tywin Lannister, discovered her affair with her twin brother, he banished Jaime back to Casterly Rock in order to protect the secret of Joffery's parentage. I made certain that the Westerlands was the first Kingdom I traveled to. I had my suspicions of the Queen's motives but I couldn't be certain.”  
“What did you learn?” She had no idea that the Kingslayer had been removed from the Capitol. She was certain that Tywin had covered the banishment with some clever story. Jaime was the heir to Casterly Rock so it wouldn't be too difficult.

“That the Queen was going to kill her husband. Jaime has a loose tongue when applied with too much wine and no memory of what he told me.” Baelish smirked slightly, obviously proud of his scheme. “The Queen convinced the King's squire, her cousin Lancel to apply the King with so much wine that he would become foolish on his hunt and the planned worked perfectly. What Jaime didn't know was that his sister was also sleeping with the squire. Something he would not have been pleased to learn.”

“If you knew of this plan, why not put a stop to it? I thought you needed the King?” Sansa asked. He told her that the reason he had Jon Arryn murdered was because he was looking into Cersei's affair. If the King learned of it, he would have happily placed her head, along with her children's, head on a spike but Baelish needed the King to be foolish, and that was something the Queen made him, foolish. Thus, he needed Jon Arryn removed.

“I needed the King to bankrupt all of Westeros. The King served his purpose. If he lived or died, it was irrelevant.” With that Sansa huffed and pulled away from him. She paced for a few moments. Irrelevant. How those words cut through her. The King's death was anything but irrelevant to her.  
“Irrelevant?! How is the King dying and Joffery taking the throne irrelevant?” She wrapped her arms around herself, hoping for some type of security. “You know what he did. You know what Joffery did. How can you say that it is irrelevant? He-” She couldn't say the words. Instead her hand flew to her mouth and she turned her back on him. Baelish moved forward and wrapped his arms around her waist. She couldn't help but lean back into him.

“I always planned on taking you as my wife, even before I met you, I will not lie to you about that. But when I came to Winterfell, I never expected to have developed the...fondness that I have for you. By the time I was here, Cersei's plans had already been set in motion and with me hundreds of miles away, there would be no possible way to put an end to it.” He paused for a moment, kissing her cheek and holding her close. “But I can promise you this, Joffery will never touch you again. I will make sure you are guarded at all times. When you want to be alone, Lady will never leave your side and at worst you have your dagger.”

“What if all that fails?” Sansa whispered. She wouldn't lie and say that his words were not comforting. It was obvious that he meant them but she was still afraid. Afraid that Joffery would somehow find his way to her. He was the king now and could do as he pleased. No one would be able to stop him. If he wanted her, all he would have to do is take her. Not even her husband would be able to stop that. She could hope that his family would keep a leash on him but that was no certainty. 

“Then his death will be a bloody one.” His voice was serious and deadly, it was the same voice he used when Theon threatened her. He meant every word. Baelish's arms tightened around her waist. “I promise you on my life that I will do everything in my power to protect you. Everything I do. Every life I take and every move I make will be for you, for us.”

“But what does all of this serve?” Sansa questioned in a soft voice. She was thawing. Her fear and her anger were slowly beginning to fade. She linked her fingers through his and felt him grasp them. “Your schemes and your plans, all it does is create chaos. A gaping pit of chaos to swallow us all.”  
“Chaos isn't a pit. Chaos is a ladder.” Baelish spoke with such strength and certainty that Sansa turned in his arms. She looked at him and held her breath. “Many who try to climb it, fail and never get to try again. The fall breaks them. And some are given a chance to climb but they refuse. They cling to the realm or the gods or lobe. Illusions. Only the ladder is real. The climb is all there is.”

She looked at Baelish with a blank face, her features cold as stone. His words still echoed into her and a warmth spread through her veins. She reached up and traced the mockingbird pin that was placed on his black coat. She was a mockingbird now and this was her time to fly. If she had to fly through chaos, at least she would have someone by her side, a bigger mockingbird to shield her if need be. Sansa moved her fingers from the pin and dug her nails into the dark coat. She pulled him close to her and crashed her lips to his.

The kiss was passionate and exciting. Baelish wrapped his arms around her waist as Sansa dragged one of her hands from his chest into his black hair. Her nails dug into his scalp and Baelish moaned that the pain. Her other hand hurriedly began to undo the ties that held his coat together. Once it was completely open, Sansa removed her hand from his hair and pushed the coat off of his shoulders. The kiss never broke.

Once the coat landed on the ground with a soft thunk, Baelish pulled her back to him roughly. Their tongues battled for dominance and when Sansa needed to breathe, she pulled on his hair and removed his lips from hers. He placed his hands on her waist and forced her to turn around. She expected him to wrap his arms around her, something that has become a habit of his but instead she felt him fuss with the ties of her dress. Eventually he got impatient and just ripped the entire back of her dress open.

A cold breeze grace her skin. However, the chill did not last long as Baelish placed his hands on her skin, trailing them inside of dress. He reached up and took her breast into his hands as his began to kiss the side of her freshly exposed neck. The feel of his hands on her bare breasts caused her to whimper loudly and for her head to fall back onto his shoulder. He pinched and pulled on her nipples. She bit her lip hoping to quell a moan.

“No, Sweetling. I want to hear you.” He continued his assault on her breast as his lips licked, sucked and bit at her neck. Sansa released her bottom lips from her teeth and allowed herself to whimper. She could feel her husband smile against her neck. Eventually, she turned in his arms and smashed her lips to his again. Her hands made a fist in his tunic and she ripped it open before pulling it out of his breeches. Once the tunic was pulled through his arms, Sansa threw the offending garment onto the wooden floor, causing his chest to become bare. “That was silk.”

“Don't care.” Sansa stated as she began a trail with her lips down his jaw and onto his neck. Baelish pulled at the dress that was still covering her chest. He worked the dress down her arms and allowed it to hang around her waist. Baelish placed his hands on her back and smashed her to his chest. The feel of her breast against his naked chest caused a loud to sound from the back of her throat. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as Baelish began to push the dress down her legs completely.

When the dress pooled around her feet, Sansa stepped out of the mass of fabric. Sansa stood in front of her new husband almost completely naked. His eyes trailed over her and his penetrating gaze made Sansa's arousal pool between her legs. Baelish stepped forwards and placed one of his fingertips at her collar bone. Slowly he trailed that finger down her collar bone and traced her breast, skipping over her nipple. He ran his finger down the side of her waist and he leaned down in front of her. He unhooked the holster that held her dagger as he placed a gentle kiss on the red hair that covered her mound. The brief kiss caused another moan to leave her lips.

Baelish tossed the dagger across the chamber and it sounded with a loud thunk as it hit the stone wall. He stood and kicked off his boots before removing his wool stockings. He grabbed Sansa below her bottom and lifted her up. She responded by wrapping her legs around his waist, pressing her soaked core to his bulge. The newlyweds moaned at the contact. They rested their foreheads together and lightly kissed each other. Baelish walked toward the bed and tossed Sansa upon it, causing her to laugh.

Baelish smirked at her as she propped herself up on her elbows. She returned his smirk and quirked her eyebrow at him. He grabbed her ankle and removed one of her boots. He tossed it over his shoulder before removing the other one. He slowly dragged her stockings off of her thighs and crawled up her body. Sansa bit her lip in excitement and he leaned down to kiss her. She reached in between them and slowly untied the laces on his breeches. Once the laces were completely undone, Sansa placed her hands his chest and pushed him away.

She leaned up and moved him so his back was against the bed. She curled her fingers at the top of his breeches and started to pull them down. He lifted his hips in order to make it easier for her to pull them off. Once the breeches were discarded, Baelish moved to flip them back over but Sansa pushed him back down onto the bed. She smirked at him and quirked her finger at him. Satisfied at her plan, Baelish leaned back and allowed Sansa to straddle him. She sat down on his member, allowing her juices to drench him. She rotated her hips and his members slipped through her folds but never entered her. She leaned down and kissed him. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing her to his chest.

Slowly, Sansa pushed away and sat higher up on his knees. She bit her bottom lip and locked her eyes with him. Her husband reached down and took himself into his hand. His other hand moved to her hips. She lowered herself onto him, causing her face to constrict in pleasure. Baelish looked at her and he had never seen a more beautiful sight. Her hair was still done up in that elegant braid piled up on her head. Her skin was flushed and she was completely unashamed at being bare in front of her.

He placed his other hand on her hip and he began to move her up and down. Sansa placed her hand on top of his and allowed him to take control. The feel of him inside of her was heaven. She could hear her voice making inalienable noises. The faster she moved her hips, the louder she became. Baelish moved one of his hands to her pearl, twirling it under his finger.

“Petyr!” Sansa shouted and leaned forward. She placed her hand on the headboard, changing the angle. She rocked her hips faster and harder as Baelish worked on her. She could hear his panting breath from under her. She looked at him, locking her eyes with his. He leered at her in complete desire, which caused a tight sensation to build up in side of her. She closed her eyes and began to chase that goal, harder and faster. Eventually she felt herself clench around him and her muscles spasm.

As the bliss soared through her, she barely felt her back hit the furs that were placed on the bed. She felt her legs spread wider as her husband pounded into her fast and furiously. Once her high completely subsided, Sansa pushed her hips up against him, matching the rhythm he set. It wasn't long before his face constricted and he called out her name into her neck. He stilled above her and Sansa could feel his seed spill into her. Baelish propped himself above her, resting his weight on his arms. His hand moved a few stray hairs that had fallen out of her braided bun, away from her face. He kissed her gently on the lips.

“Oh Sweetling.” His voice was breathless and satisfied. He kissed her again before moving himself off of her. When he pulled out of her, Sansa whimpered at the loss. Baelish landed on the bed next to her. He reached out and linked their hands together. He brought the back of her hand to his lips. Once his lips broke away from her skin, he opened his arms. “Come to me.” Sansa smiled in a girlish manner, and moved to wrap her arms around his chest. She placed her head on his skin and absentmindedly traced the scar on his chest.

“You seemed pleased.” Sansa stated and Baelish laughed. She could feel the vibrations in his chest that was caused by his laughter. His hand reached up and slowly he began to undo her hair. Slowly she could feel her hand fall down her back and her husband's fingers run through her hair. He kissed the top of her hair with a smile.  
“As you should be too, my little wife.” Baelish stated against her hair.

“I'm still mad at you.” Sansa leaned down and kissed his chest before tilting her head to look at him. She kissed him on the lips. His smirk could be felt against her lips. In truth she was still angry and most likely would be for a while. She just wasn't going to allow that anger to override her. If she got too frustrated with him, she was certain that he would allow her to work out her anger on his person, and he would enjoy every moment of it.  
“You seem furious.” With that, he reached down and tickled her waist. Sansa squealed loudly at the assault. Once he stopped, she realized how loud her laughter was and got embarrassed. She flopped on her back and placed her hands over her face. Baelish took her wrist gently and stopped her from hiding herself from him. Once her hands were pulled away, he could see her face was bright red. “What is it Sweetling.”

“They are going to hear us!” Baelish chuckled. He was sure that at some point a guard or servant had passed by their chambers during their pursuits. If they hadn't, there were chambers located beside, above and below theirs. While he didn't care if anyone heard him pleasuring his wife, he knew that she would be embarrassed. These people had known her since she was a child and here she was acting in the most wantonly way possible. He enjoyed every moment of it but he was certain that she would not be able to look a few people in the eye in the morning.

“Sansa, you chanted and moaned my name. I would be very surprised if they haven’t heard you already.” Baelish stated with a smirk. Slowly he trailed his hand down her flat stomach and toward her center. He parted her lips and graced the nub stationed between her legs. Sansa whimpered at the contact. Her mouth parted in pleasure and her head fell back ward. Baelish leaned down and took her nipple into his mouth, sucking it for a moment. “And it is something I plan to cause several times tonight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I am hoping you all enjoy this. I want to let you know that I will try and post this weekend, on both Saturday and Sunday but I can't guarantee it. I have a date tomorrow night that I'm kind of excited for. So, I will be focused on that.


	26. Chapter 26

A bird could be heard chirping through the window. It continued to sing as the sun slowly peeked its way over the mountain top. The song could be heard even though the window of Lord and Lady Baelish's chamber was closed. The bride was asleep with her naked chest pressed against the feather mattress. Her hair was sprawled across the pillows and her eyes completely shut. She was exhausted because sleep didn't come easily to her the night before. The reason being was that her new husband remained buried deep inside of her for most of the evening. 

Baelish was propped up on his elbow, examining his sleeping wife. He looked out the window and saw the sun begin to peak through the window. He knew that they would be departing in an hour or two. Sansa would need to rise and he knew she would not be pleased to be woken. It was only four hours ago that she had fallen asleep in his arms after being completely spent. A wicked smirk appeared on his lips and he leaned forward. He moved her red hair to the side, exposing her pale and naked back. He drew lazy circles on her back but she only whimpered.

He leaned in and placed a kiss on the base of her neck. His lips sucked at her skin and his tongue licked her lightly. He started to trail his lips down her back. Two kisses down, Sansa started to moan but it wasn't out of pleasure. Hearing her discontent, Baelish smirked even wider. He placed his hand on the small of her back and slowly made it's way under the sheet. He slid his hand down her bottom and he slowly moved it in between her folds. Sansa arched off of the bed and whimpered. 

“Petyr.” She whined and her hands curled against the sheet. Baelish slipped a finger and then another inside of her and started to pump it in and out. His lips still kissed the skin of her back as she withered against him. “Petyr, I'm trying to sleep.” Sansa stated in a breathy moan. Baelish of course didn't stop but instead increased his pace. 

“Rise and shine Sweetling. We have a long day ahead of us.” He stated but he was certain she didn't hear him. Her thoughts were focused on his hands and the budding tension that was building inside of her. Suddenly her body arched and she called out his name. Baelish pulled his fingers out of her and Sansa turned on her back.

Her legs parted automatically and Baelish nestled himself between them. He took himself in hand and slowly eased his way inside of her. Sansa whispered his name when he was fully seethed inside of her. He rested his forehead against her's and they just looked at each other. Sansa's hands were placed on his shoulders. Baelish bent down and captured her lips with his. 

He started to move slowly in and out of her. It was an agonizingly slow pace and caused both of them to whimper and moaned against each other. Sansa dragged her feet up against his calfs and parted her legs wider. She arched against him and the changed the angle of their bedding session caused him to go deeper. 

“Sansa.” Baelish whispered into her neck. Sansa weaved her fingers through his hair while her other hand dragged her nails down his back. The nails dug into the skin of his back, causing Baelish to still and spill himself inside of her. They stayed together, just allowing themselves to catch their breath. Sansa wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him. They kissed lazily and they smiled into each other. After a moment, Baelish pulled himself out of her and moved beside her. 

He laid on his back and Sansa moved into the nook of his arm. She rested her head against his chest and he held her closely. His fingers ran up and down her arm in a lazy manner. She felt him place a kiss on the top of her head and she smiled. She closed her eyes and felt herself begin to drift back off to sleep. 

“Sansa, we have to get up.” Baelish stated and his wife grunted. He laughed lightly and could feel her smile against him. He shook her gently and Sansa snuggled in closer to him. She lifted her leg over his waist and pulled herself so that she was as close to him as possible.“If we plan on leaving on time, we need to prepare for the day.” 

“Don't want to.” She mumbled but Baelish could hear that she was far more awake than she pretended to be. “Although if you continue to wake me in such a manner, I might just become a morning person.” Her husband smiled into her hair. One thing he learned about her the night before was that if he placed his hands in the perfect position, she would squeal. He did just that and his new wife jumped off him, causing him to burst out laughing. “How rude!” Sansa slapped him lightly. 

She reached down and pulled the furs up close to her, covering her naked chest. Her eyes were narrowed at her husband, who was propped up on one arm with the sheet covering his waist. His leer was firmly in place. 

“Are you awake now?” Baelish stated in a satisfied tone. Sansa could tell that he was overly pleased with himself. Although it was no wonder why, he had just spent the better part of the last twelve hours making her scream him name. Any man would be smug after such a time. His eyes linked with her's and she couldn't help but feel the corners her mouth turn up. 

“Yes, no thanks to you.” She laughed lightly. “What are the plans for today?” 

“Well, we are going to get dressed” Baelish leaned up and kissed her shoulder, “and then as the servants take our trucks to the carriage, we are going to have breakfast with your family.” He kissed her neck before wrapping his arms around her. “Once we are fed and happy we will set off southward.” She leaned down and kissed him. “Are you okay?”

“I'm beyond terrified but having you there will make me feel...I don't know.” She was silent and looked at her hands. Baelish kissed her shoulder again in comfort. “I just...as long as Joffery is king I never will feel safe in King's Landing. It was one thing when he was the prince but as king he has so much more power.” She teared up and her husband brought her into his arms. 

“I meant what I said last night. I will protect you at all cost. I will never allow him to touch you again.” His voice was serious and stern. She knew that he meant every word. What concerned Sansa was the chance that he would fail. She knew her husband wasn't used to failing but it could happen. Everyone failed every now and then. She just hoped that protecting her wouldn't be something he failed at. 

“I still can't believe you didn't tell me.” Her voice was soft and he could tell that she wasn't angry anymore. Sansa took all of her anger out on him the night before and once she achieved that release, she just felt scared. While bravery was something that ran through her Stark blood, she couldn't help but have this sinking feeling inside of her that King's Landing would only bring about her downfall.

“I knew that Cersei would make an attempt on her husband's life but I didn't know when. I had thought that she would at least wait a bit longer but I think she was getting impatient. Being married to a man who disrespected her as frequently as he did, I think it ate away at her.” Baelish stated. “Many claim that she is one of the most beautiful women in all of Westeros and the man who called himself her husband, had no desire for her. I'm sure her vanity couldn't handle such a blow.”

“Do you think she is beautiful?” Sansa asked and her husband could hear a hint of jealousy in her tone. It caused him to smirk. He liked the thought of her being jealous over him. It brought a sense of primal pride out in him. 

“Of course.” Sansa glared at him and pinched his chest. He raised a hand in defeat and laughed. “I won't lie, the Queen is very beautiful but she is a horrible person, almost as bad as me. Her whole fetish of sleeping with members of her family, such as Jaime and Lancel causes any desire for her to be squashed.” Sansa seemed pacified. He kissed the top of her head again. “She may be beautiful but she is no Sansa Baelish.” 

The sound of hearing her new name caused a heat to run through her. She pushed her husband against the headboard and straddled him. She ground her self against him causing a moan to elicit from his lips. She crashed her lips to his and rotated her hips. Baelish hissed against her and she could feel him harden against her folds. 

“Sansa we don't have much time.” 

“Then we will be quick.”

“You didn't say that last night.” 

“Stop talking.” Sansa crashed her lips to him against and sat up slightly. She placed her hands on the headboard that her husband leaned against. Baelish took himself into his hand before Sansa lowered herself down on him. She didn't waste time to allow herself to adjust to him, she just started rocking and riding him. The headboard banged loudly against the stone wall and neither of them were quiet. 

Sansa leaned back and grabbed his legs behind her. Baelish couldn't help himself but he ran his hands up her torso and grabbed her breast. Sansa sucked in a breath as he began to pinch her nipple. Soon he leaned up and took her breast into his mouth. She moaned at the contact and let go of his legs. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders while she laced her fingers in his hair, pulling him away from her breast and latched their lips together. It wasn’t long before the two of them fell over the edge. 

Sansa moved off of him and leaned back against the headboard as Baelish pulled himself from the bed. He was completely naked and seemed comfortable with that fact. He walked around the bed and Sansa just admired his form. He bent down and grabbed the breeches that had been discarded the night before. He pulled the breeches on and tide the ties loosely. He went to his truck and pulled out a fresh pair of clothing as well as picking up his coat he wore the night before. He unhooked the mockingbird pin from it. Returning back to his trunk he pulled out a silk blue robe.

Baelish walked over to the bed and handed his wife the robe. He smirked at her hair that was completely disheveled and leaned down to kiss her on the lips. It was a quick peck before he moved away from her. Sansa sat up and put on the robe. It was slightly too big for her but she allowed tied it around her waist. The fabric was far more luxurious than what she was used to. It felt soft and lovely against her skin. It wasn’t warm but she knew it would do perfectly in the South.

Leaving her side, Baelish walked toward the corner of their chambers. He bent down and picked up the dagger that had been tossed there the night before. Sansa looked at him strangely and he pulled the dagger from the holster. He held the dagger in his hand and he walked toward the other side of the bed. He pulled the fur down toward the end of the bed.

“What are you doing?” Sansa asked. She moved off of the bed and stood there beside it. Baelish smirked at her and cut his own finger with the dagger, causing it to bleed. He squeezed his finger, causing the blood to drip onto the white sheet. Sansa watched him as he spread the blood across the sheet. “The servant will never be able to remove that!” She remembered the first time her courses came and they bloody mess that had been created.

“I know but the servants need to think that your maidenhead had been taking last night and not before. A small amount of blood will convince them of such things.” Sansa had completely forgotten that the night before was the first time she was supposed to bring a man to her bed. “While it may not be important in the capitol, seeing that most already believe that you seduced the new King into your bed years ago, but I promised you that I would never would allow your reputation to be ruined in the North.” She smiled at him. 

Sansa begged him once to keep the news of her ruin away from her family and away from the North. Joffery had bragged about bedding her and Cersei had to correct her son’s loose tongue. In order to prevent outrage at the prince forcefully ruining a high lord’s daughter, she spun the story that Sansa had seduced the prince. However, such actions didn’t sound as though it was something the Queen would have done. Sansa wondered if the news of her apparent seductions had more to do with Tywin Lannister than it did Cersei. He had his own son banished to Casterly Rock in order to separate the twins in order to protect the family. Sansa was sure that cleaning up his grandson's mess would far easier than pulling two lovers apart. He would do anything to protect his family. 

“What if I don’t care anymore?” She looked at her husband and he cocked his head to the side slightly.

“What are you saying?” Baelish asked. He had done a great deal to cover their tracks. They were reckless before and he knew it; it was part of the thrill. Yet, he made sure that if even tiniest hint of their affair had reached the ears of an outsider, they would be compensated greatly. She wanted the North to remember her as this untouched porcelain doll, when she was anything but. If that is what she wanted, then he was more than happy to make that happen. 

“The North will always be my home and I will always be welcomed here, no matter the state of my reputation. But in the capitol, I’m already ruined aren’t I? I certain there will be questions about our marriage. So if they are expecting a seductress, then that is what I will give them.” She smirked a naughty smirk and locked her eyes with her husband’s. “I will make them all want me and yet none of them will be able to touch me.”

“Except me.” Baelish stated with a wide leer. His eyes were trailing her and there was a mischievous glint in them. His mind was scheming and planning. She felt powerful. She was pushing her fear aside and allowing the possibilities of King’s Landing wash over her. He was her partner and with him by her side, anything she wanted was possible.

“Yes. Only you.” Sansa stated. She walked around the bed, dragging her fingertips along the sheets and wrapped her arms around his middle. She placed her chin on his naked shoulder. “I will flaunt my relationship with you. I will make them all know that only you can touch me and I will make them all want me. Joffery is King and can have anything he wants but not me. No. I will make him remember what he did but I won’t give him the satisfaction of thinking that he broke me.”

“That’s my girl.” Baelish turned in her arms and kissed her. “With your beauty, your smarts and my help, King’s Landing will fear and love you. Men will worship the ground you walk on and women will want to be you.” He kissed again. “But tempting Joffery, it will be like taunting a lion. It’s dangerous. A big gamble and a high risk.”

“You once told me that the higher the risk, the bigger reward.” Sansa stated as she drew small circles on his chest. She bit her lip and Baelish kissed her. “I’m counting on his grandfather to keep him on a tight leash. From what you told me of Tywin Lannister, I’m assuming he is not a man to be to go against, even if Joffery is the King. I will use that to my advantage. I will make Joffery want me, but he can’t have me. I will be his downfall. I will see him bleed.”

“He could easily break his engagement with Margaery Tyrell and have me killed. Then marry you in order to have you.” Baelish countered. While he was less than fond that outcome, it was a possibility. He didn’t believe that Joffery was cunning or intelligent enough to think of such things, but Cersei was. She was weak when it came to her son. If Joffery wanted something, she would bend over backwards to insure that he had his desires fulfilled. Yet, Tywin was not so easily displaced. As long as Tywin was alive, he would rein in Joffery's temptations. Perhaps her scheme had some merit.

“No. They won’t kill you. You’re far too loyal to the throne to be rid of. Who else will bring the kingdoms out of financial ruin? Who aligned such a powerful match between the throne and a powerful family? No. The throne values you too much to be rid of you.”

“I think I have fully corrupted you and what an enjoyable process it was.” Baelish stated with a smirk. He was proud of her. The way her mind worked fascinated him. He rarely found someone who could scheme on his level. He would bring down the entirety of Westeros if she so pleased but he was beginning to see that in time, she could complete such a task on her own. “I’m certain that I will reap the benefits.”

“Oh I’m sure that there are a few ways that you can continue to corrupt me on.” Sansa stated as she bit his lip. “If not, then we will just to find a way to keep ourselves occupied.” She trailed her hands down his chest toward the ties of his breeches. “We will have to perfect our craft to the point that it is a well-constructed dance, both in the bedroom, and outside of it.”

“Yes. We will.” Baelish stated as he caught her wrist. He gently pulled it away from him. “Unfortunately, now is not the time for such activates. We don’t have time.” Sansa pouted, sticking her lip out and Baelish leaned in and kissed it gently. “Later.”

“Promise?”

“Always.” He kissed one last time before pulling away from her. He walked over to his clothes and put his ivory green tunic on. “Get dressed. If we stall any longer we will miss breakfast and I rather not explain to your father why you missed the meal this morning.” He grabbed the coat that he pulled out of his trunk and put his arms through the sleeves. “He is already rather cross with me.” He stated as he tied the ties of his coat together. Sansa smirked.

“And why would that be?” His wife asked in a cheeky. She walked over to her own trunk and pulled out the first dress she found, along with a chase and corset. She looked over to her husband and saw that he was adjusting the mockingbird pin on the dark coat. Once it was adjusted, he sat down on his trunk in order to slip his wool stockings on along with his boots. It amazed Sansa how easily it was for men to prepare for the day. She would be in the chambers for at least another hour in order to dress simply and comfortably for a day of travel.

“Many, many reasons Sweetling.” Baelish stated with a smirk. “The first reason being I married and obviously defiled his eldest daughter.” Sansa shot him a look of contempt and rolled her eyes. “The second being that Jon might have indicated I was the one who told him about his mother.” He stood and glanced at himself in the mirror. He flattened his hair. He turned and appeared to be ready for the day. “And I’m certain he just hates me, not that I blame him.”

“My poor husband. It must be exhausting having such a father in law.” Sansa teased and Baelish smiled. He placed his hands on her hips and leaned in to kiss her again. They stood in such a manner for a few minutes. He pulled away from her and kissed the top of her head.

“Get dressed and I will see you at breakfast.”

With that, Baelish left her in the chambers alone. She walked out into the corridor for a moment, calling for a few servants to assist her with getting prepared for the day. Her eyes traveled to the bed and saw the blood upon it. It wasn’t much, but enough to be convincing. Perhaps she should blush and be embarrassed at the obvious signs of her wedding night. She laughed lightly and walked to the window. The bird was still singing. It was warm, or at least, what the North considered warm. Far warmer than it had been in a long time. Sansa could see that the snow from the night before had all melted and left a muddy ground behind. She closed her eyes and breathed in the breeze. Summer had arrived at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I actually considered have this be the last chapter and continuing the story in a sequel. However, I am not going to do that because I A) can't think of another title and B) I really don't feel like it. SO this story is just going to be obnoxiously long. I hope none of you mind.


	27. Chapter 27

As she walked down the stone corridor, Sansa wondered if the guards always kept a straight face, avoiding any type of contact or if it was because she had been so loud the previous night that no one could look her in the eye. Her boots echoed off the stone floor as she passed by each and every one of them. She was not sure if she should be the one who was embarrassed or if they should be. They all knew exactly what she had done the night before. Even if they did not hear her scream out her husband's name, it was common knowledge what happens on a wedding night. 

She continued to force herself to stroll down the corridor. She could feel their eyes watching her and she wondered if she was walking differently. Baelish spent their wedding night invading her person is many different ways so if she was indeed walking differently, it would not surprise her. She was sore but it wasn't entirely unpleasant. The ache between her legs caused her mind to drift to the naughtiest of things. 

Once she reached the dining hall, Sansa pushed the wooden doors open and strolled toward the table that her family was seated at. She noticed that the decorations from the wedding feats were still hanging on the walls but the spare tables had been removed from the hall. She knew that the decorations would come down once she had left Winterfell but it made her happy to see it decorated with such splendor still. It would be a pleasant memory to hold onto. 

Her eyes traveled to the table that her family dined at. They were silent and their eyes were all upon her. Her father was at the head of the table, as always, and he wore a depressed look upon his features. Sansa was uncertain if it was the knowledge that she was no longer a maiden that saddened him or if it was the death of his old friend. She was certain that even though the King and her father had a falling out in the past, his death would still cause him pain. 

Her mother was situated beside her husband and appeared to be extremely angry. Catelyn's eyes were narrowed and her lips were pursed. She was playing with the food in front of her but it was clear that she was not eating it. Edmure was seated beside his sister in the seat that Sansa normally occupied. She noticed that the only vacant seat was stationed between her husband and Arya and across from her uncle. Sansa walked around the table and took her seat next to Baelish, who promptly grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it, in front of her entire family. No one said a word. 

Robb was seated next to Edmure and Sansa noticed that he was avoiding all eye contact with her. She suddenly remembered that his chambers were located directly above the ones she and Baelish had consummated their marriage in. Slightly embarrassed, Sansa decided it was best not to look at her brother at all during the meal. She could feel Arya vibrating beside her as she attempted to withhold her laughter. Sansa felt her face heat up and the only thing she could think to do was pick up the goblet that a servant just filled with water. She sipped lightly at the water and she noticed that Jon was not at the table. 

“Where is Jon?” She asked turning to her father. She hoped that distracting them from the obvious would allow her embarrassment to fade. She saw that her mother's knuckles whited as she gripped her fork tightly. Her eyes shot a hurt look toward her husband and dared him to say anything.

“He left this morning. Early.” Catelyn stated and Sansa realized that her mother knew. Ned must have come clean about the truth of Jon's parentage. She wondered if her father was concerned that Baelish would have let something slip to her mother. While Sansa knew that there would have been no point of informing Catelyn, seeing that there would be no direct benefit from such an action, Ned could not be sure of what action Baelish would take.

“I see. I would have liked to say goodbye to him.” Sansa stated and looked at her father. She smiled lightly at him, wanting him to believe that she was none the wiser of the truth. Ned smiled gently at her but said nothing. He wouldn't come clean to her and that saddened her. He would always see her a child.

“I'm sure you will see him again.” Ned state before turning to Baelish. “Lord Baelish, Edmure and I were speaking at the feast last night after you and-” Ned paused and Sansa could tell that his mind went to a place he rather night think on. “After you had left the feast, we were discussing the King's death. We thought it would be wise if we accompanied you to King's Landing once we depart from the Twins. We have to fledge our loyalty to the new king and I would like to pay my respects to Robert.” His voice was hard as he spoke to Baelish. He was less than pleased to be in his new son-in-law's presence. 

“I agree that it would be wise to fledge your loyalty early.” Baelish stated. He picked up his own goblet and drank lightly. His eyes flickered to her and she felt her stomach lurch. Her family would be close by in King's Landing and she felt relieved in a way. “I will have to adjust a few travel plans but nothing that would be to difficult.” 

“I do not agree with this Ned.” Catelyn stated and she all but threw her fork down, causing it to clank against the silver. Her father sighed and Sansa could tell that while she had been screaming out her husband's name, her mother had been yelling out her father's but only in a different manner. It must have been an exhausting evening for the Lord of Winterfell. 

“Cat-” 

“No! I already have to send one child to that lion's den, I do not want to send anymore.” Her voice was harsh and cold. Edmure leaned in to say something to her but she brushed him away. Catelyn thought that sending her children to King's Landing was as though she was losing them and that was a nauseating feeling. 

“I promise that nothing will happen to them.” Ned stated but Catelyn wasn't listening. It was obvious that it was not just the thought of being lied to during their entire marriage that caused her anger, it was the thought of sending her children into a dangerous place. She had already lost one child, she did not believe that she would survive losing another. 

“You don't know that.” Catelyn whispered and Edmure put a hand on her arm. Sansa could see her husband looking at her mother in question. She suddenly realized that the two of them never really discussed Bran, but rather he just knew about his death.“I can't go there and look that women in the eye as I bow to her son. I will not do it.” 

“You're not coming?” Sansa asked. Catelyn was supposed to following them to the Twins but it seemed that those plans have changed. It made Sansa's heart sink, seeing that these would be the last few moments alone with her mother and they would be spent with her being angry. The thought felt as though something sharp pierced her heart. She would miss her mother dearly and knew that it would be months if not years before she would see her again. 

“No. I am not.” 

“I think King's Landing will be exciting.” Arya stated. She attempted to sound innocent but Sansa could see the wheels turning in her head. She couldn't imagine the things Arya would find herself involved in when they arrived at the Capitol but she was sure that she would find a way to make the Lannisters pay for the damage they have done. She would make all of those involved in Bran's death, beg for her mercy before she watched the bleed. 

“You're not going.” Catelyn stated in a firm voice.

“What?! No! I want to!” Arya challenged. Panic filled Sansa and she could see that Arya was feeling the same way. Neither girl wanted to be separated at such a time like this. It would be a comfort to have Arya close in a new place. Baelish saw the panic in his wife's eyes and looked toward Ned who seemed completely defeated. Sansa could tell that he was just at a loss for right thing to do. Ned so desperately wanted the world to be black and white but it was no such thing. 

“I think it would be best if you stayed behind Arya.” Ned spoke, agreeing with his wife. The newlyweds could tell that the only reason he agreed to allow Arya to stay in Winterfell was because Catelyn wished it. Arya had been so happy to learn that she would be going to the Twins and Ned was never one who could refuse his children's happiness. 

“I know that it would bring joy to my wife if Arya would accompany us to King's Landing.” Baelish's voice sounded methodically and Sansa turned to her husband. He was still looking at Ned and completely ignoring the glares Catelyn was sending his way. She laced her fingers through his, hoping that he understand her gratitude. 

“I think it would be best if you minded your own business Lord Baelish.” Ned stated harshly. Baelish narrowed his eyes and his lips pursed out, something Sansa learned that he did when he was irritated. Her mind flashed to the incident in the village when he learned of her parent's scheme to marry her to Harold Hardyng. That seemed so long ago now. She never would have imagined she would be sitting here, married to the man who saved her from such a horrible fate.

“If it concerns my wife's happiness then it is my business.” Baelish stated in a cold tone and Ned flinched. Sansa was sure that he wasn't flinching at Baelish's tone but rather the word 'wife'. Sansa was Baelish's wife now and he wanted to make sure that they were well aware of such a fact. Sansa pulled her hand from Baelish's and placed it on his forearm. 

“Father, please let Arya come. I'm unsure when Petyr and I will be back at Winterfell and I don't want to wait that long. I will miss all of you and if any of you can come to King's Landing I would be grateful. With Mother not coming, it would be wonderful to have at least one of them with me for the first few months.” Sansa pleaded with her father. 

“Please let me go!” Arya chimed in and Ned looked at his two daughters. He sighed and looked over to his wife, whose face was stone cold. Everyone at the table knew exactly what he was thinking and Catelyn didn't like it. As Lord of Winterfell, he had every right to override his wife, yet he rarely ever did so. 

“No Ned.”

“Catelyn.”

“No.” Their eyes locked with each other. Neither wavered for a moment before she pushed her chair away from the table and huffed. Catelyn stood and crossed her arms. “Fine. I see that I will be out numbered on this. Go if you must. All of you. But Rickon stays. Sansa can I have a word with you?” With that Catelyn strolled out of the dining hall. 

Sansa turned to smile at her husband and stood from the table. She could hear Arya squeal and leapt to hug their father as Sansa left the dining hall. Once she stepped into the corridor, she saw that her mother was waiting for her. Catelyn smiled lightly but Sansa could tell that she was still angry. Her mother stepped forward and placed her hands on Sansa's shoulders. Her mother started to tear up and took her eldest daughter into her arms. 

They stood there for a moment, simply holding each other. Sansa knew that these were the last moments she would have with her for a very long time. She didn't know when she would see her again and Sansa started to tear up alongside her mother. When they broke apart, Catelyn put her hand on Sansa's cheek and wiped a stray tear away. 

“I feel like I'm losing you.”

“I'm only just got married. It had to happen eventually. It's just not how you expected it to happen. You're not losing me. I promise. Petyr would never keep me from my family, surely you know that. He has already told me that if I desired to see any of you then he will find a way to make that happen.” Sansa stated but saw the unconvinced look her mother gave her. She reached out and placed her hand on her forearm. “He only asked that Arya come to King's Landing because it would make me happy.” 

“If it would be anywhere else, then perhaps I would feel differently but that place....those people.” Catelyn looked away. The older women wrapped her arms around herself. Sansa had never seen her mother seem so unsure of herself. She had seen her mother consumed by grief and terrified of losing one or more of her children but never uncertain. “I can't send my children into the clutches of the Lannisters, but it appears I have no choice.”

“Come with us. Please. I would love to have you there with me. I'm sure I am going to be lost navigating the ins and outs of being married and having my mother close would make me feel..I don't know....safe? More comfortable?” Sansa stated with a small laugh. She didn't know why but the thought of her mother being close made her feel safe. “Please come with us.” 

“I can't.” Catelyn whispered. “I just can't. They murdered your brother. How can I bow to someone whose family killed one of my own?” Sansa just stared at her mother. If only she knew the extent of what the Lannisters have done; to her, and to the world around them. Perhaps it was better that she didn't. “I begged Ned, I begged him to end the engagement between you and Joffery. I couldn't bare the thought of you married into such a family. While I may not be pleased with Petyr, he is a far better choice than Joffery. At least I know you will be protected with him.” 

“I want you to know that I will be happy with him.” Sansa stated and her mother sighed. Catelyn reached out and placed her hand on Sansa's cheek. She searched her daughter's face, looking for anything that would cause her to worry.

“I have to ask but last night, after the feast...was he kind to you?” Catelyn was asking about her wedding night. It was clear that she had not heard the moans and screams as Robb had. She was certain that if she had, she would not be posing that question in the first place. With the knowledge that her mother remained in the dark about just how well her wedding night went, that meant her father was unaware as well.

“It was perfect.” Sansa looked away and smiled. “He was very kind.” He was during at least one of their sessions. She was sure she would have at least a few bruises on her person due to one of the more adventurous positions. She blushed just thinking about it, something Catelyn mistook for modesty. 

“Good. I was worried.” 

“Sansa.” The two of them turned to see her husband walked toward them. Catelyn didn't miss the way Sansa smiled at him as he approached or the sly smirk he gave in return. She remembered those days, the early ones of her marriage. While it appeared that her daughter was far more comfortable with her husband than she had been, she still missed those days with Ned. She supposed it was due to the fact that Sansa and Baelish had time to become comfortable with one another while she didn't even know Ned when they married.

Baelish strolled slowly toward them and he carried a small leather pouch with him. When he reached them he held the pouch out to her and she took it from him. She opened the pouch and saw an assortment of fruits, cheeses and some bread. She looked at him in question. 

“What is this?” Sansa asked.

“Food. Everything has been loaded onto the carriages and your father wants to leave as soon as possible. You didn't get a chance to eat much so I made sure that the servants packed something for you to have during our travels.” Baelish stated with a gentle smile. Catelyn leaned over to see what was in the bag. She spotted the food and couldn't but to repress a smile. She wondered if Baelish had ever been that considerate towards her when they were younger. She couldn't recall him being that way with her when they were children. It calmed Catelyn's nerves slightly to see such a display of affection. Perhaps Sansa would be taken care of and not just protected. 

“Thank you Petyr. Although I am certain that Arya will eat most of it.” Sansa laughed lightly and looked at her husband shyly. He smiled back at her and Catelyn couldn't help but see the light exchange between them. It was the look of new lovers and she remembered the feeling. How exciting it had been and it was as though they shared a secret that no one knew. It softened her resolve. She was by no means pleased at the thought of her children being in King's Landing but the simple gesture between Baelish and Sansa made her slightly less angry. 

“I will have the servants gather up a second pouch.” Baelish stated with an amused smirk. Sansa was touched by his gesture. She knew that not everyone saw that side of him; the side that was gentle and caring. The reason why the never saw it was because he didn't normally care about others. She was special and the one person he did care about. The fact that he would be willing to pack a second pouch of food for her sister just to make her happy, showed how special she was. 

“I'll get it.” Catelyn stated as Baelish pulled away. “I want to say goodbye to Arya and Robb as well as speaking to your father. I'll take care of it.” Catelyn stepped forward and took Sansa into her arms one last time. She hugged her tightly and sucked in a breath. “Promise me that you will write. Promise me. If you need anything, I'm only a raven away.” 

“I promise.” Sansa stated and Catelyn kissed her forehead. She pulled away and placed her hands on her daughter's shoulder. Sansa placed hr hand on top of Catelyn's and squeezed it. “I will write to you when we reached the Capitol and as often as I can.” 

“Thank you.” She whispered. She kissed her forehead again before turning away. She smiled at Baelish in her usual stiff manner. “Petyr it was a pleasure to see you again. I'm sure we will meet again.” Sansa was pleased that at least one of her parents would be civil with her husband. If only her mother was coming to the Capitol with them then she might be able to hold back her father if the need ever arrived. While he may not have heard them on their wedding night, he was bound to in the month it takes to travel to King's Landing. 

“We are family now after all.” Baelish stated with a leer. Catelyn faltered slightly before nodding and walking back toward the dining hall. Once she was out of sight, Baelish took Sansa into his arms. He kissed her lightly. “I missed you.” Sansa laughed against his lips and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. They kissed again, both smiling against into each other. 

“You saw me an hour ago.” Sansa counted. She wouldn't lie and say that the entire time the servants were helping her dress, that she though of him and missed him. The servants of course were made it no secret that they knew that Sansa was no longer a maiden. Baelish's blood on her sheets had done the trick. When the servants stripped the sheets off of the bed, they kept sending her sly looks. 

“Too long. Especially since for the next several hours I will be riding a horse next to your father who would love to behead me at this point. And you Sweetling, will be tucked away in a carriage, out of my sight.” Baelish leaned in and kissed her cheek. Sansa felt his hot breath against her skin and it caused her to moan in remembrance of the night before. “Especially when I'd rather be riding you.” 

“Behave.” Sansa stated but could help but laugh because in truth, she would rather be doing the same thing. She kissed him again before pulling away to lace her fingers through his. “On a serious note, thank you for the food. I would have been starving later and I am not a pleasant person when I am hungry.” They walked slowly toward the courtyard. 

“Noted. I will always make sure there is always plenty of food around for you.” Baelish joked. He stopped and looked at her with a serious face. “I just want you to be happy.” Sansa smiled and leaned into him. She kissed him again and placed her hand on his cheek. 

“With you, I'll always be happy.” Baelish gave her that boyish smile and led her out into the courtyard. Sansa paused again and looked up at Winterfell. She was exchanging her old home for a new one. Sansa Stark was a daughter of the North but Sansa Baelish was a bride of the South. Her new home would be built out of sunlight instead of snow. She could only hope that the rays would burn her in the process. With one last goodbye, Sansa kissed the stone of the castle she always called home and allowed her husband to lead her away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ever have such a bad day that the only thing you want to do is eat cheesecake, cry and hold your dog? Yep, thats my day. I love my job but there are days when I wish I could marry rich and have shirtless cabana boys waiting on me hand and foot.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are! Another chapter.

The wheels of the carriage turned against the muddy pathway, splashing everything it passed. It rocked and creaked making the journey uncomfortable for those who rode inside it. The large party had been traveling for three days and it would be another few days before they reached the Twins. Their stay at the Twins would be brief, no more than a day or two; just enough time to arrange a marriage between Robb and one of the Frey daughters.

The night before, as they laid naked and spent in their tent, Baelish told Sansa he would not be surprised if Stevron accompanied them to King's Landing. It would be wise due to the fact that it was required that all high and low lords fledge loyalty to the new king. Sansa had not been aware of such practices but the only king that had ruled during her life time had been King Robert. Never before had a new king been crowned for her to bow to.

She realized that King's Landing would be filled with all the high lords and ladies from all over Westeros. This would have been a dream come true once upon a time. The thought of being in King's Landing was right out of those songs she loved to sing. She would have thought it would be the beginning of her song and maybe it was. Maybe her song was just different than she thought it would be. It would be something darker and far more primal than her old fragile self could handle.

While the thought of King Joffery being able to lord over her, terrified her to her very core, her fear was subsiding slightly. She knew that the closer they came to the capitol, the more terrified she would become. Of course, she knew Baelish would keep his promise and never allow anything sinister to happen to her. He would move all of Westeros and dethrone Joffery himself in order to keep her safe and in return, she was willing to do the same.

Sansa was jerked from her thoughts as the carriage hit a rock in the mud covered road, causing the carriage to rock to the side. She shook herself and focused on the other side of the carriage. Arya was stretched out in the most unladylike manner imaginable. She was bored and Sansa couldn't blame her. While it was exciting the first day, travel quickly became tiresome. Sitting in a carriage for hours on end irritated them both. Arya would rather spend her time exploring the land that they camped at while Sansa spent the few hours they stopped in order to eat and sleep, entwined with her husband.

Arya huffed loudly and Sansa laughed at her. The younger girl shot her an annoyed look which only caused Sansa to laugh harder. Sansa had her sewing with her as well as a few books but Arya was not satisfied with such distractions. She wasn't one to sit still for long periods of time and she itched for the carriage to stop in order for her to just explore. However, Sansa wasn't sure how long they had before the sun set and she knew that they would stop well before then in order to have camp set up by nightfall. That is if there are no taverns that they would pass on their travels.

“Bored?” Sansa asked. She smiled at her sister's irritated look. She reached down and pulled out one of the books Baelish had bought her in the town they passed the day before. Sansa had made an offhand comment about how it never occurred to her to bring a few books along with her to keep her occupied. Baelish had disappeared for an hour after they had checked into the tavern and returned with a hand full of books; more books that she could read the length of their travels. She told him in great detail that she did not need such gifts but he simply smirked at her. He proclaimed that his gifts were perks of becoming Lady Baelish. She had teasingly asked him if Lysa received such gifts and his reply was that the only gift he gave her was a push through the moon door.

“More than you know. At least you have something to keep you occupied.” Arya stated, taking the book out of her sister's hand. She flipped through a few pages before huffing and throwing the book on the seat beside her. Sansa smirked at her sister, being impatient as ever. “Plus you have your husband to keep you occupied at night.” Her tone changed to a light, teasing manner which caused Sansa to blush furiously.

“I don't know what you are talking about.” Sansa replied, avoiding eye contact with Arya, which only caused Arya to laugh. Sansa narrowed her eyes and her sister just smiled wider. “Is this what you are going to do in order to entertain yourself? Tease me about what my husband and I do in the privacy of our tent?”

“Privacy? Sansa, there is no privacy when we are traveling. The two of you can be heard throughout the camp at night. Father has taken to making his tent is as far away from the two of you as possible. I mean, did you see him yesterday morning? He looked like he was going to kill Lord Baelish!” Arya laughed and Sansa blushed even a deeper red. “I mean, do the two of you even talk or are your mouths to busy doing other things?”

“Petyr and I talk about everything!” Sansa exclaimed. It was true, they talked about everything they could think of. In the first days of her marriage Sansa learned more about her husband than she expected and in return she told him things that she never felt comfortable admitting before. Of course most of these conversations happened while they were naked and entwined with each other.

“What could the two of you possibly talk about?” Arya asked with a laugh. While she assumed that her sister and new brother-in-law found something in common to discuss, she had no idea what it possibly could be. Sansa got a wicked smile and Arya wondered if she should regret asking her sister such a question.

“We talk about the naughtiest of things.” Sansa stated and Arya made a show of gagging. Sansa laughed. “He tells me of his life and how he has gotten as far as he had in life and I do the same. He also spills the secrets of King's Landing.” That caught Arya's attention. She sat up straighter, or at least as straight as the bumpy ride would allow.

“Tell me!”

“I can't tell you everything.” Sansa stated as Arya pouted. She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “But apparently Ser Lores Tyrell likes to keep the company of men in his bed instead of women.” Arya's eyes grew wide with the news. While it wasn't unheard of for a man to bed another man, it was quite the scandal when it did indeed happen. “And Petyr told me that that Ser Lores's favorite bedmate is none other than Renly Baratheon.”

“Seriously?! The late king's brother?” Arya was stunned. She never met either of those people but she had heard their names. Beyond being talented at tourneys, Arya has heard very little of Ser Lores. Renly was another matter. Their father had told them stories of the younger man but Ned never indicated that Renly would prefer the company of men over women. Of course it was possible their father didn't know.

“Yes. Apparently their affair has been going on for years and is well known among the court. However that isn't the scandal.” Sansa smiled. She had been as shocked as Arya at first to the point that she asked Baelish if he ever desired a man. His facial expression and how he pinned her to the bed with his length inside of her, proved to her that he only desired the female form. “Petyr received a raven this morning. After King Robert died, Renly fled the Capitol. No one has seen him since, yet Ser Lores remains at court.”

“Trouble in paradise?”

“King's Landing is anything but a paradise.”

“But why else would he leave? His eldest brother is dead, if the rumors of Stannis are true, then he is not one who would be close to his younger sibling, and if he and his lover are no longer together, what would he have left in King's Landing?” Arya asked and Sansa looked at her. Arya was quick and she knew her mind was catching on quickly. “Unless he knew something. He must have known something that would cause him to flee. I wonder what it could be.” Arya looked at her sister. “You know don’t you.”

“Yes.” Arya waited for Sansa to tell her but she stayed silent for a moment. She bit her lip and looked at her younger sister with concern. “It is really one of those things that I shouldn’t say. It’s not that I don’t want to tell you, I just don’t want your head to end up on a spike. Nor mine or my husband’s for that matter.” Sansa’s mind flashed to her family’s crypt and the secret Baelish had shared with her. She hated to dwell on such a secret. Baelish had risked so much to tell her the truth of Joffery’s parentage and while she trusted Arya with her life, if the wrong person overheard such a tale, it could ruin everything. Sansa found that it was best to keep Arya in the dark for the time being, at least until it was important that she knew the truth. “Renly left King’s Landing because he knew what would happen to him if he stayed. Please understand why I must keep this from you.”

“Okay.” Arya stated, she wasn’t pleased at the idea of her sister keeping secrets from her but it was clear that Sansa had a reason to keep such things from her. Her curiosity of course was peaked but she was willing to wait for such knowledge. She was sure that it would come out eventually, one way or another. “Are there any other secrets you can tell me?”

Sansa remained silent but smirked. She mentally ran through all the secrets, lies and schemes Baelish had told her. There were so many little games at play in the Capitol that it was difficult for her to simply pick one or two. She of course would not reveal anything that would be detrimental to her husband, such as his part in Jon Arryn’s death, but she would have no problem condemning someone else. The question was who was she most willing to throw to the wolves.

The Queen. Arya hated the Queen almost as much as Sansa did.

“Well, Queen Cersei has taken a lover.” Sansa stated and Arya snorted. It of course was no big surprise. When the King and Queen had visited Winterfell in the past, it was no secret that neither of them felt any regard for each other. The King had bedded every serving wench, servant and prostitute that would allow him to do so. All the while, the Queen showed so much contempt for him that the news of her taking another man to bed was not shocking at all.

“I was hoping for something more dramatic.” Arya stated and Sansa rolled her eyes. She knew her sister would be less than pleased with such a tale. She wanted something more. Something that would cause her toes to curl. “Not a secret that the common fool would have been able to guess. I mean, her husband is dead and it would be no shock for her to find someone to warm her bed before his corpse is even cold.” Sansa snorted and laughed. She never said when the affair started but Arya assumed that it started after the King’s murder.

“It is highly scandalous for the Queen take a lover while her husband is still alive.” Sansa stated and Arya’s widened slightly. It was a surprise but not enough to fully shock her. “It is even more shocking when the Queen and her lover are behind the death of the King.”

“But the King was killed by a boar?”

“Was he?” Sansa asked cryptically. “It was known that King liked to indulge on wine, having too much during a hunt could be catastrophic. If someone, say the King’s squire, was to ensure that the King had his fill with a wine that may or may not have been laced with something.”

“Are you saying that the Queen and the King’s squire plotted to kill the King?” Arya asked, unsure of what to make of such news. “Wait, you said that the Queen and her lover were the ones who made an attempt on the King’s life. Are you saying that the Queen has taken a lowly squire has her lover?” When Sansa stated that Cersei had taken a lover, Arya assumed it would have been another high lord or someone with power. The idea that the Queen was bedding a lowly squire baffled Arya.

“It makes perfect sense if you think on it. If you wanted to kill someone, the best option was to get close to the person who is around them the most.” Sansa stated. “In this case it was the squire. He was around the King the most and the King allowed him access to his person above all others. While it was not born out of trust, it was enough for the Queen to use such closeness.”

“But wouldn’t the squire be loyal to the King?” Arya asked. She thought on her father’s squire and she knew that he would never betray Ned. There was a bond that a lord creates with their squire. It is very similar to the bond that a lady forms with her handmaiden. “I mean sleeping with the Queen is one form of betrayal but to actually plot and kill him is more than just breaking loyalty.”

“You’re right. However, would the squire have ever been loyal to the King if he was a Lannister?” Sansa asked and she let that stir between them for a moment. She could see the thoughts running through her sister’s mind. The disgust and disbelief was paramount on her features. “The King’s quire was Lancel Lannister, the Queen first cousin.”

“Queen Cersei bedded a member of her own family?” Arya asked in nauseating disbelief and Sansa almost stated that a cousin was far better than a twin brother. However, she held her tongue, knowing that she couldn’t reveal such a secret. It wasn’t completely uncommon for cousins to marry and have relations but it wasn’t the normal practice. “And she did so in order to kill her husband. No one can claim she is not dedicated to her cause.”

“That is one way of interpreting it.” Sansa replied. Arya grew quiet and distant, staring out the carriage window. Sansa could tell that her mind was turning and that she was trying to understand everything Sansa had told her. However, Arya was not one to remain quiet for long and the fact that she wasn't saying anything, worried Sansa. “Are you okay?” 

“I'm just thinking.”

“About?” 

“You said that there were things that you were not able to tell me. Renly left because of something that would have gotten him killed.” Arya paused for a moment before continuing in a heavy voice. “Yet, you willingly told me that the Queen was bedding someone other than her husband and possibly was involved in his murder. Even hinting that the Queen had been unfaithful is treason; claiming that her and her lover killed the King would get far worse than your head on a spike. What worries me, is the secret you keep. If what you told me is nothing compared to that, then I fear what will happen to you.”

Sansa didn't reply at first. She was touched by her sister's concerns and would't lie to say that they were not unwarranted. If word of Joffery's parentage reached the wrong people and such words could be traced back to either Sansa or Baelish, both she and her husband would be labeled as traitors and put to death. Arya was right, the though of Cersei's affair and the King's death paled in comparison to Joffery's true bloodline. After learning the truth, nothing surprised her anymore and she had forgotten that her sister still had that luxury. 

“Don't worry about me. Petyr will make sure nothing will happen to me.” Sansa reached out and took Arya's hand into her's, hoping it would bring some type of comfort. The weight of the world she was entering was hitting her in full force. The nauseating feeling in the pit of her stomach returned and part of her wanted to break down and cry. She realized that she has not really cried since Baelish came into her life. It took all of the walls she had built up over the years in order to keep the tears at bay. 

“He is a dangerous man isn't he? Your husband?” Arya looked deeply into her sister's eyes, searching for the truth. When she found what she was looking for, she smiled. She leaned forward and took Sansa into her arms. She squeezed her tightly and kissed her red hair. “Good.”

The two of them felt the carriage begin to slow and Arya peaked out of the small window. She saw that the sun had moved in the sky and it would be dark within a few hours. Camp needed to be set if they planned on having any type of shelter to sleep in. 

There were voices outside and when the carriage came to a complete stop, the door opened revealing Robb who had been riding his horse up head of the crowd. Arya was the first to exit, leaving Sansa sitting in the carriage. She could hear her brother calling her name but she didn't move. She tried everything she could to keep her walls sternly in place but no matter how hard she tried, they were cracking. She had allowed herself to become comfortable, confidant and happy that she became out of practice in holding her emotions in. 

She felt the carriage move slightly and heard the door close. She looked up when she felt a hand slip into her's. Baelish sat across from her and it was clear that he seemed concerned. His grey-green eyes poured into her ice blue orbs and she completely broke. Sansa's began to sob. Baelish reached forward and took her into his arms, placing her on his lap. He kissed the top of her head as his fingers ran down her spine. He simply held her as she cried and once she was finished, he kissed her lightly.

“As much as I adore having you in my lap, I must confess I like it better under different circumstances.” Baelish stated and Sansa snorted. She laid her head against his shoulder. He kissed her head again and she could feel his smile against her red hair. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. I just...it was something Arya said.” Sansa stated and she could feel her husband tense under her. “She didn't mean to upset me. Not at all. Its just, she made me realize how dangerous this really is. Everything we will be working for, it could cost us our lives. And the thought of Joffery...I wanted to make him pay and make him realize what he can't have but I don't know if I can. I don't know..I'm so scared and I realized that one wrong move could cost both of our lives and-” The words were tumbling out in a rush but Baelish stopped her with a small kiss.

“I promise you Sansa that if there is even a hint that Joffery wants our heads, we will leave the Westeros and never look back.” He kissed her again. It was gentle and comforting, far differently than the passionate ones they were used to sharing. Once he pulled away, Baelish pulled her close, tucking her head under his chin. “As for Joffery, I don't want you to do anything you don't want to. If you want to stay clear of him, then that is what I want you to do. Taunting him would be dangerous.” 

“I don't want to give him the satisfaction. I don't want him to have that power over me.” Her voice was harsh and cold. While the thought of seeing him again terrified her and she wanted nothing more than to see his body twitch in agony, she wanted to prove that he didn't break her. She needed to prove that she was stronger than him; that she was as strong as winter. 

“He doesn't and he never will.” Baelish assured her. He took her face into his hands and wiped the tears away. “Instead of purposely taunting him, perhaps giving him as little attention beyond what is required would be best. Be polite and kind but don't engage him. Treat him like a stranger. Focus on Margaery. Befriend her. My spies tell me he cannot deny her anything and that she has him wrapped around her finger. To get to him, the best way is through her.” 

She thought of Cersei and Lancel. The best way to the King was the one who was closets to him. If Margaery was the key to Joffery, then perhaps molding her plan after Cersei would be the best course of action. Of course the plan would be different but hopefully it would have the same outcome. Once Sansa wanted to be just like the Queen. Now, she wanted nothing to do with her. Yet, Sansa knew that she would have to sink to her level in order to achieve her goals. 

“And what of the court?” 

“Prove to them that you're my equal. Prove to them that you are just as dangerous as I am.” He kissed her again. “I know you. I know what you are capable of and I know that when we get to King's Landing, the game will be yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must say it is odd that we are no longer at Winterfell, which has been the setting for 27 long chapters. I mean, that is a feat! But the game is changing and so is the scenery! I'm excited!


	29. Chapter 29

The Twins were imposing and they gave a haunting glow to the land surrounding them. They were two castle, identical in appearance that were connected by bridge that ran over the rushing river. The bridge was narrow, and would only allow two carriages to pass through them at a time. Each end of the Twins was surrounding by moat with a draw bridge that was lifted at all times. It was guarded and once the toll has been paid, travelers were allowed to pass through.

The Riverlands were vast but nowhere near the size of the North. There was a moisture to the air that Sansa was unfamiliar with. She was used to breathing in the cold, that the light dampness that lingered in the Riverlands was shocking to her. She also never seen to many trees and woods surrounding the land, nor was she used to the sound of rushing water that constantly evaded her senses. Being in such a place made her wonder what it would have been liked for Baelish and her mother to grow up in such a place. She had only been in the Riverlands for just over a day but she could tell that it was beautiful.

The Crossing was located directly on the King's Road. A toll must be paid in order to pass through or travelers would have reroute themselves hundreds of miles in order to avoid such a toll. It was far easier and in the long run, cheaper just pay a small price in order to continue on the most direct route headed south. The large party that traveled from Winterfell, while guests of the Twins, still had to pay the toll.

Stevron had welcomed his guest into his home with grace, yet Sansa could tell that he was anything but gracious. In the two months that had passed since Walder Frey’s death, Stevron had allowed the position of Lord of the Crossing to swell his ego. He was as much of a fool as he was a lord, which was easy to predict. She could see how easily it would have been for her husband to convince him to murder his own father. It was obvious that the loved the position he coveted more than his own flesh and blood. He treated his sister’s poorly and it made Sansa wonder how long Stevron would hold his position. Of course it all depended on how long Baelish needed him to be Lord of the Crossing.

He had greeted Baelish warmly, calling him an old friend and Sansa assumed he really believed that her husband was a friend of his. He was a fool and Sansa only tolerated his presence because she knew that her husband needed him for the time being. Stevron was loud, obnoxious and he clearly thought himself above his sisters. The way he simply lined them up, telling Robb to choose which ever one suited his fancy was something Sansa found disturbing. Robb and her father were taken highly aback and both of them proclaimed that they would think on the decision.

Although the choice was clear. The Frey daughters were less than pleasing. Most were women of wider birth with nappy hair and had sickly appearances. Some were gentler looking but still held a displeasing appearance. However, Roslin Frey held a simple beauty but a beauty none the less. If Sansa had met her before knowing her name, she never would have guessed that she was the daughter of Walder Frey. She was a small girl of Sansa’s age with long brown hair that reached her waist. Her skin was pale and it reminded Sansa of the fresh fallen snow she would see back at Winterfell. Her eyes were brown and appeared far darker than they actually were due to the porcelain tone of her skin.

While Robb never directly said that he would choose to marry Roslin over the other sisters, it became clear when Roslin picked up a small violin. She was beyond talented and at least she knew Winterfell would one day be filled with music. That gave Sansa a sense of comfort and she could already tell that she would grow found of the women who would be her sister-in-law. She could only hope that her brother felt the same.

While he was pleased with Roslin, there was an awkward tension between them. Robb made the best effort he could to get to know the younger girl and she was receptive toward him, but there was no connection between the two of them. They were friendly with each other and Sansa hoped that over time something would blossom because she wanted her brother to be happy. She could tell that Roslin was a good person, shy and quiet but a good person none the less.

“What do you think of her?” Sansa asked Robb when he disbanded from Stevron’s solar along with Ned and Baelish. The eldest Stark siblings strolled along the bridge that linked the two castles. He seemed perplexed and undecided. Sansa had no worries that Robb wouldn’t follow through with the marriage. He was too much like their father, honorable and one to keep his word. If he didn’t, Sansa knew that Stevron would cause an issue for Baelish. While Stevron felt that he owes her husband a great deal, with removing Walder Frey from the Twins and arranging this marriage, if this deal went south then things could become difficult for Lord and Lady Baelish.  
Robb was quiet at first. He seemed pensive and completely lost in thought. She understood the feeling, while she wanted nothing more than to marry Baelish, she had been scared. Of course her fears were far different than his but either way, marriage was not something to be taken lightly. It actually made her proud that he was concerned and nervous. She could only hope that he would grow to hold some affection for her and for Roslin to have some affection in return.

“She is pretty, and she is a very talented musician.” Robb stated and Sansa could tell that he was depressed. It wasn’t that he was unhappy with the bride but more over the entire situation. He didn’t blame her or take his frustrations out on the innocent girl he would be marrying, which could not be said for other grooms who would have found themselves in a similar situation. Robb was being very kind.

“This is a good thing Robb. It will help the North and over time you may grow fond of each other.” Sansa stated, hoping to pacify her brother. She wanted him to be happy of course but she knew that Baelish could not afford for Robb to change his mind and not marry Roslin. It was extremely important that he stick to his word. “You can’t change your mind now.”

“I’m not going to!” Robb exclaimed. “I know how important this is. I know it will help pull the North out of financial ruin but don’t you think both of us have sacrificed enough? Roslin is a sweet girl who would make any many happy but she is not my choice. I want to be able to choose who I spend my life with.” Robb huffed in frustration and ran his hands through his chocolate curls.

“You are the heir to Winterfell and you agreed to take one of the Frey daughters as your wife. You have to do your duty.” Sansa countered. “Just like I have.” That caused Robb to huff in cynical amusement. “Both of our marriages will pull the North out of ruin.”  
“Yes. We’ve all heard the duty you’ve preformed, behaving in such a way that is beneath you. You’re no better than Jeyne. At least you chose your husband!” Robb stated and Sansa flinched. The only time her brother ever spoke to her in such a tone was after Bran had passed and her father turned the position for Hand of the King down. She had been awful and deserved such treatment at the time. Now however, she did nothing to warrant his cruelty. “I’m sorry. That was unkind. I’m just frustrated with all of this. Excuse me.” The two of them reached the gates of the castle that faced north. Sansa watched her brother walked inside as she remained standing on the bridge, listening to the river flow beneath the stone.

Sansa closed her eyes and let the sound of the rushing water fill her senses. It was still a sound that took some getting used to but Sansa found it peaceful. She understood why it was hard for her mother to let go of the Riverlands and embrace the North. The North was far harsher than the environment Catelyn had been raised in. Harrenhal was located north of the Twins but it still resided in the Riverlands. Sansa wondered if she and Baelish would ever really retire there. She knew her husband was hoping to resign his position of Master of Coin and become a full lord once Harrenhal was rebuilt. She wondered if she could hear the river flow from her new home as she could at the Crossing.

“He is never going love me, is he?” Sansa turned when she heard a voice speak behind her. Roslin stood there on the bridge and Sansa wondered how much of the conversation with her brother she had heard. The look upon the girl’s face was heartbreaking and distraught. She suddenly realized that it wasn’t just her brother who was dreading this match, but the bride was as well.

“Roslin, I’m sure that with time you and my brother will become very fond of one another.” Sansa replied and Roslin gave her a small smile. However, Sansa could tell that her brother’s betrothed didn’t believe her but was grateful for the encouragement. Roslin wrapped her arms around herself, as though she was protecting herself from a chill. There was a slight breeze coming from the river below but nothing that would cause hair to rise on the skin. Then again, Sansa was raised in far colder weather and maybe this was what the Riverlands considered to be cold.

“It is not that Lord Robb Stark isn’t kind or wouldn’t make a good husband for any women, but…” Roslin paused and looked down at the river. Sansa followed her line of sight and saw Roslin’s reflection in rippled water. Her reflection was ashen and hallow. This was a girl whose heart had been broken and Sansa knew exactly how she was suffering. Roslin was in love, but it wasn’t with her brother.

“Who is he?” Sansa asked softly but Roslin only smiled in return. It was a light smile and Sansa knew that she was thinking of whoever held her heart. She tiled her head and looked back at Sansa. “Someone who doesn’t even know I exist.” She laughed lightly then and placed her hand on her lips. At first glance, Roslin appeared fragile and breakable but upon closer inspection, Sansa realized that Roslin Frey was made of steel just as she was. Sansa wondered what caused this girl to harden herself “Don’t worry. I will marry your brother and I will make the best of it. Girls like us always do their duty, don’t we?”

“What happened to you?” The words flew from her lips before she could even stop them. Sansa looked down at the stone and felt herself blush. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that. Forgive me.” Roslin reached out and squeezed Sansa’s arm gently.

“It’s okay.” She pulled away and wrapped her arms around herself again. She looked down the river and appeared lost for a moment. “I was the one who found my father. I knew my father was a cruel man but he was my father. My siblings didn’t care for him so when he didn’t rise in the morning, I went to check on him. I still remember how blue he was and so cold. His body was lifeless and his eyes were wide open. There was bile still running from his mouth.” Sansa couldn’t move, enraptured by the sincere tale Roslin was telling her. “The Maester claimed he died of a fever but any fool can see that he was poisoned. My brother murdered my father, although I’m sure you already knew that.”

Her tone wasn’t hostile or cold. Roslin didn’t blame Sansa nor her husband but she knew the role Baelish played in the death of her father. This was a girl who knew her place and accepted it, even if it meant allowing parts of her to be chipped away, piece by piece. Roslin would carry her silence to the grave. While Sansa knew it wasn't to protect herself and her husband but rather the brother that murdered Roslin's father. She wasn't protecting him out of love but rather out of the duty she must have learned from her mother. It was the same duty and allowed her to be loyal Walder Frey even though he gave her no reason for such loyalty.  
“Roslin, I'm so sorry.” Sansa stated as she saw her husband strolling down the bridge. He was a ways away and she could see that Baelish was in no hurry. Roslin looked over her shoulder when she saw Sansa look away. She smiled at the taller girl and laughed lightly.

“Don't be.” Roslin eyed her from head to toe causing Sansa to feel as though she was being expected. “I'm glad that the rumors I heard about you turned out to be false.”

“Rumors?”

“Surly you've heard them.” Sansa knew that there were rumors flying around about her but she didn't realize that they have reached the Riverlands. She wondered briefly why her uncle has not mentioned them to her father, because she was sure that he would have said something to her if he had. Sansa shook her head and Roslin's eyes widened. “Oh, I shouldn't have said anything.”

“What are they saying?”

“You really want to know?” Sansa nodded and Roslin took a deep breath. “Well, some say that you're a fool but I can tell that you are far more intelligent than those who are saying such things. Another is that your father married you off to Lord Baelish in order to save the North. I suppose that is true but I feel as though there is so much more to the story. You appear far too happy with your husband to have been a daughter that was simply sold off to the highest bidder. Although what surprised me most was how pleased Lord Baelish was with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You are more than just a pawn to him, as I am. Every move he makes as a purpose. Stevron has spoken of Lord Baelish and it is clear that your husband has made a good deal of promises to my brother. All of which he has kept. Now, your husband is someone whose intelligence overrides my brother's and one day Lord Baelish will collect on his generosity. If my brother doesn't deliver, well Lord Baelish has enough to ensure that Stevron wouldn't survive if he refuses.” Roslin grew quiet as Baelish approached them. She smiled lightly at him, covering for worries. “Lord Baelish.”

“Lady Roslin.” Baelish responded in greeting as he wrapped his arms around Sansa’s waist. As on instinct she leaned into him but her eyes remained on Roslin's. She could tell that Roslin was scolding herself for revealing so much, but it was as though she yearned to tell somebody what she was thinking and once the words started to tumble out, there was no putting a stop to them. This was a girl who had no one to speak to. 

“Is that the only thing you have heard?” Roslin seemed surprised that Sansa was willing to continue with their discussion. “Anything you want to say to me, you can say to my husband. He already knows the best and worst of me. Any rumors that have been said about me, it cannot be any worse than either of us expected.” Roslin nodded and bit her lips before speaking again.

“They say you seduced the new King, when he stayed with you at Winterfell. Some of my sisters have giggled about it. Stating that you came to the King's chambers and crawled into bed with him. It was said you were with child but your father forced you to get rid of the child. It was speculated that you were hoping that the child would cause you to be forced to marry the King. They claim that the reason the engagement ended between the two of you was because the child died.”

“And what do you think?” Sansa asked, in a stone cold voice. While she knew that the rumors would be less than pleasant, hearing them out loud caused a pain inside of her that she was not expecting. Baelish's arms tightened around her and she placed her hands on his, searching for comfort.

“I think that you are just like so many girls before you and many who will follow. I hear that the new King is cruel. My brother told me he beat a servant girl to death because she wasn't fast enough getting his wine. That was of course before he was King and before his grandfather was at court.” She paused and looked at Sansa. “The King is monster and I think you that you are no fool. Trying to get pregnant with his child would have been foolish.” With that Roslin smiled and turned away. The newlyweds watched her stroll down the bridge.

Sansa looked out and watched the river flow. She leaned into her husband's arms, just allowing her thoughts to take her. She knew that Joffery was cold and cruel. It was no surprise to her that he had murdered a girl for a small mistake. She knew that he got away with it, with his mother more than willing to cover up his dirty little deeds. She could only hope that Tywin had a stronger hold on his grandchild that his daughter did.

Part of her wanted to never set foot in the Capitol. If the construction on Harrenhal was finished and not in ruins, she might have begged Baelish to take her there and allow them to live out their lives in peace. She could easily enjoy life in the Riverlands, far away from a psychotic king. She could easily fall into a life with Baelish there. Their days filled with laughter and little games while their nights would be spent entwined with each other, calling out each other's names. Once Baelish felt his wife relax, he kissed the small of her neck. Sansa released a whimper and he smirked against her skin.

“What are you thinking?” Baelish asked and his voice washed over her. She smiled lightly and closed her eyes. With the sound of the water flowing by and the light Riverlands breeze brushing past them, it was easy for her to fall into her fantasy. “You only smile that way when I've just been inside of you.” Sansa slapped him lightly which only caused him to laugh.

“I was thinking of Harrenhal.” She traced her fingers on his hand and let the small smile linger on her face. Dreaming of Harrenhal made her fears of Joffery be pushed back down. She found the closer they drew to King's Landing, the more terrified she became. A couple of times her husband had to calm her down when she felt her fear begin to over load her. “I was thinking about how easy our life would be if we could just go there. It might be a bit less exciting but safer. Our children would be able to run amongst the trees and they would never have to worry the lies of court.”

“It's a beautiful dream. I do hope that one day, when I am no long Master of Coin and when I achieve everything that I need to, that we can retire there.” He kissed her shoulder. “I like the idea of our children being raised away from court. I've seen what happens to children who are born into the court life and when we have children, I want nothing more than to keep them away from such things.” Sansa never really heard him speak of their children before. She knew that it was a foregone conclusion that she would carry his children, it was the whole purpose of marriage, but she often wondered what kind of father Baelish would be. Would he really ever be able to leave court in order to ensure the safety of his children? Or would send his family to Harrenhal while he stayed behind? Sansa turned in his arms and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

“Would you be able leave? Really? Could you give up your schemes and live a quiet life with your wife and children? Or would grow discontent with such a life?” She asked and he gave her that smirk that he used when he wanted to pin her up against a wall and ravish her. She cocked her eyebrow at him and leaned in. She kissed him lightly but wouldn't allow it to grow to passionate.

“There are many things that can be accomplished from long distances. Just because we would be tucked away at Harrenhal, does not mean that we would grow bored. Perhaps that is what I am working for. Preparing for our future and our children's future and the future of the Baelish name.” He placed his hands on her stomach and drew small circles over her clothing. “When you start to grow my child I will make sure that he or she will have the best of everything and that means a life far away from King's Landing. It may not be right away but I promise that if our child is born in the Capitol, he or she will have no memory of such a place.”

“Perhaps? What are you after Lord Baelish?” Baelish smirked widely. He began to respond but Sansa placed a finger on his lips. “And if you say everything Petyr, I might have to smack you.” He chuckled and kissed her finger. He opened his mouth slightly and bit the tip of her finger gently. Sansa giggled and shook her head. “I believe I asked you a question.”

“What do I want? Hmm? Let's see. I wanted ships as a boy and now I have dozens. I wanted to be far away from the Finger's and now I live in the Capitol. I wanted to be rich and now I am one of the richest men in all of Westeros. I wanted a beautiful wife and here she is, resting in my arms.” His eyes trailed over her and Sansa pushed his shoulder lightly. She leaned in and kissed him quickly.

“Flattery will get you nowhere. All of that is past tense and those are things you have already have. What about the future Petyr Baelish? What does he want?” She asked him softly but he just smirked at her. He was clearly in a playful mood and sometimes she wondered how he switched so easily. One moment he is concerned about her but once he knew she was perfectly okay, he switched moods.

“Everything.”

“Petyr.”

“Alright, alright. I want everything that was denied me as a child. I am a man that came from nothing and should have amounted to nothing more than a low level Lord. But it wasn't enough for me. So when I say I want everything, I mean everything.” Sansa crashed her lips to her husband and they kissed forcefully. “And what of you Lady Baelish? What do you want?” Sansa looked into his eyes and she knew that whatever she told him, he would give her.

“Vengeance.”

“Then vengeance you shall have.” Baelish leaned in and kissed her again. They stood there on the stone bridge of the Crossing devouring each other. Their future and their passed rested on that bridge. Turn north and the past lingered in the cold of the snow. Turn south and their future was weaved in the heat and sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I LOVE Roslin. I know she is such a minor character but there is something about her that I just adore. I think I've built her up in my head into a quiet and resigned person, that while she accepts what life has thrown at her, she isn't weak. She makes the best of what she has and is very loyal. 
> 
> Now. If that is how George RR Martin sees her, I don't know. But I love my version of her.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER THIRTY! WHOO!

While Sansa found the Riverlands beautiful, the Eyrie was the exact opposite to her. While it was green, much like the Riverlands, it had this fog and mist that covered everything it could touch. It held an eerie hinge that casted a mystical spell over the land that made Sansa jump at every bump in the road. It didn't help that Roslin was riding in the carriage alongside her and Arya and the small girl appeared to be afraid of nothing. It was as though she was completely numb to the world around her. Sansa felt more like the Eyrie with its pointed mountains and its hidden shadows. Perhaps that is why it frightened her so much. They were so similar. 

As she watched the scenery pass by, she could understand why her husband wanted the Eyrie as well as why he hated it. The Eyrie was powerful and even a simple traveler could tell that just by passing by. Yet, it represented everything he hated and lost in life. The Eyrie was Lysa Arryn and his ruined childhood, but just like with Lysa, Baelish was more than willing to control it in order to achieve his goals.

Baelish controlled the Eyrie. He owned land in the Riverlands. He had an alliance with the Tyrells as well as one with the North through their marriage. The Lord of the Crossing owed a favor and practically his entire seat to Baelish. He was slowly becoming the most powerful man in Westeros but with each inch of power, the bigger the risk became. She wasn't clear exactly where his schemes would take them but she hoped that it would at least give her the revenge she desired.

Sansa looked out the window again as the mountains passed them by. If it wasn't for Baelish, she was certain that she would have become mistress of all of it. Every peak, tree top, hill tribe and fog would belong to her. She would have been Lady of the Vale and that was a prospect that Sansa dreaded. The Vale could be seen in the distance and she wondered if Harrold Hardyng was happy with his Myranda. She hoped so because Myranda, even though she never met her, was far better suited for the position than Sansa ever would be.

She let her mind drift to the horror of what her life could have been. She was certain the fog would have consumed her and that her life would have ended the spark in her. She imagined her days filled with loneliness as Harrold bedded the servants who served her. Their children ignorant to who their father really was and Sansa wouldn't have the heart to break the truth to them. The loneliness would have froze her and caused to break completely.

Unless Baelish came to the Vale.

Sansa smirked. If she had never met Baelish and was forced to become a Hardyng, only to meet him later, she was sure that a scandalous affair would have blossomed between the two of them. She could only imagine the places they would have snuck off to. She assumed it would have been exactly like the nights she met him in the darkest parts of Winterfell. She would have carried his love child and birthed his bastard. She would have never wanted anything more.

Sansa placed her hand on her stomach and cringed. Her courses had come two days earlier and she always hated them. They were bloody, uncomfortable and they made her want to cry at the drop of a hat. Along with them came disappointment. She had hoped that the many times she allowed Baelish inside of her would have caused her to be with child. She cried when she realized that she had started to bleed. Baelish told her that in time, their child would be born.

Roslin gasped loudly and pointed out the carriage window. Black smoke was rising through the trees and they could see a flicker of a fire. They felt the carriage halt to a stop, causing Sansa to fall forward into her sister. The three girls threw open the carriage door and stepped out on to the dirt covered pathway. Guards, banner-man and their companions were jumping from their horses to stare at the scene in front of them.

The guards dashed into the trees and Ned came up to the three girls. He looked directly at Arya and told her to stay by the carriage. He looked at his eldest daughter, begging her to do the same but he knew that he held no command over her anymore. Sansa looked around for her husband but could not see him in the mass of chaos. She glanced at her sister and saw her simply staring out into the woods; as though she heard something. Once Ned was out of sight, Arya sprinted into the trees. Sansa called after her and without even glancing at Roslin, Sansa ran after her.

As she ran farther and farther into the trees, calling after her sister. She could hear the crackle of branches beneath her boots. She heard a growl and out of the corner of her eye she saw Nymeria running through the trees alongside her. Sansa was sure Lady was not far behind. However, Nymeria was in tune with Arya and the direwolf would know where her sister would be. Sansa changed her course and followed Nymeria. It wasn't long before her skin began to sweat and a fire raged in front of her.

The fire burned in a stone, rundown building. It seemed mostly contained but it caught on a few of the trees that surrounded the building. It would spread and there wasn't much time but Sansa wasn't going to leave without finding her sister. She looked around hoping to see Arya among the trees but it wasn't Arya she saw. The fire was the first thing she noticed but once the obvious was disregarded, Sansa stepped forward and focused on what was lying on the ground.

Bodies. Dead bodies littered the leaf covered ground. They were young boys ranging from late childhood to early teens. There were a few older men but they were mostly young boys. They were beaten, bloody and murdered. Their eyes hung open and Sansa could tell that their souls had left them. She could the fire flicker behind her and she could smell the smoke. She felt a hand grasp her wrist and Sansa turned to see Baelish, wide and terrified. He pulled her to him in a bone crushing embrace as though they had been separated for an entire winter. Once he released her, he placed his hands on the sides of her face.

“You weren't at the carriage and Roslin said you chased after Arya. Are you alright?” She couldn't speak, instead her eyes turned back to bodies that littered the ground. A few men passed the two of them, pausing when they saw the bodies but continued to move. Sansa heard yelling and orders being given but she couldn't focus on what she was hearing; until she heard a direwolf howl. The howl was piercing and the sound reminded Sansa of Lady’s howl when she was left dying in the snow infested Godswood. Her eyes widened and she grabbed Baelish’s hand. He allowed her to pull him through the wooden area.

It only took a few moments and she saw Robb running in the same direction. The three of them reached a small section that was located around the burning building. Lady, Nymeria and Greywind were all surrounding a cage that held three prisoners. Above the cage was a tree that had caught fire and it appeared as though that the one branch would break at any moment. If it did break, the burning branch would land directly onto of the case, causing the three men inhabiting it to burn to death.

“Arya! What are you doing?” Robb shouted but their younger sister didn’t hear him. Instead she picked up a rock and started to bang it against the lock that held the cage of the door closed. She repeated the motion over and over until the lock broke off. Two of the men pushed out of the cage and knocked Arya over, causing her to land on her side against a rock. Her head landed against the rock and she called out in pain. Sansa made a move to assist her sister but Baelish held her back. Robb ran past the two of them but before he could reach Arya, the third man from the cage, crawled out and lifted Arya into his arms. Sansa could see that she was bleeding slightly but appeared to be conscious. Both Robb and Sansa rushed to the stranger’s side in order to see their sister.

“The fire is going to spread. We need to move. Now.” The man spoke with an accent that was unfamiliar to Sansa. Before she could get a decent look at the man who saved her sister, he moved around them and headed toward the tree. The three direwolves raced through the trees ahead of them. Baelish linked his hand with his wife’s and pulled her to follow. Robb was ahead of them and Sansa looked back in time to see the branch break from the tree and land directly on the cage.

She felt numb as her husband navigated their way back toward the King’s Road. Her mind flew to the fire and the dead boys. Someone had caused this and took the lives of those children. It wasn’t that she felt sick or nauseated by the sight but rather she felt guilty at the fact that their deaths meant nothing to her. They were children who were brutally killed and she didn’t shed a tear. It was certainly a shock and she was sad as to what happened to them but she refused to allow it to affect her. She already had so many emotions running through her that she couldn’t handle anymore.

Once they reached the King’s Road, the stranger laid Arya on the ground and Ned ran toward his daughter. Arya brought her hand toward the cut on her head and hissed. She moved her hand to block the sunlight from her eyes because it caused her pain. Ned knelt down by his daughter and took her into his arms. He held you close and inspected the gash in her forehead.

“I told you to stay by the carriage.” Ned’s voice was hollow and it appeared that he had been terrified. Sansa could understand why. Baelish wrapped his arms around Sansa’s middle and she leaned into him. The adrenaline was leaving her and she could feel exhaustion take over. Ned looked over to his two eldest children and when he saw that they were perfectly fine, he continued his focus on Arya. He called for water and some bandages. The Maester from the Twins who was traveling alongside Stevron moved to assist the younger girl. Ned moved away, allowing the Maester to take over her care. “What happened?” Ned asked, looking between Sansa and Robb but before either of they could answer, the stranger stepped forward.

“The girl saved three lives today.” The stranger said and Sansa was able to fully look at the stranger. He was tall and was wearing ragged clothing. He was dirty but that was to be expected if he had been in that cage for any long period of time. However, what stood out most about his was his hair. One side was completely white while the other was red. Sansa was unsure who this man was but she knew that he was dangerous.

“Who are you?” Ned asked and his eyes darted around, obviously looking for the other two men he claimed Arya saved. “And where are your two companions?”

“My name is Jaqen H’ghar and the two men who I was trapped alongside with, ran in the opposite direction. Where they went I cannot be certain.” Jaqen H’ghar stated and Sansa noticed how he never stated that he was trapped in a cage that was transporting prisoners. His accent was smooth and it was clear that he was intelligent. Sansa wondered what he was imprisoned for.

“What happened here?”

“We were being transported to the Wall. There were about twenty of us, all dead now.” H’ghar responded but gave no further information. Sansa thought that if the group was being taken to the Wall, it meant that he was being taken forcefully. He was locked in a cage and she assumed he must have been banished to the Wall, along with the two other men. Now, it was curious to Sansa why he didn’t flee with the other two men. He was now free and would not have to take the Black if he so chose not to, but he stayed with the men who easily could have him sent to the wall against his wishes.

“Who attacked you?” Ned asked. The Lord of Winterfell eyed the other man and Sansa could tell that her father thought that he was dangerous and didn't trust him. “My son is the Lord Commander of the Wall, I will have to inform him of the tragedy that had taken place here. If you still wish to take the Black, I’m sure my son will be pleased to have you.” H'ghar's features remained passive but it was obvious that his mind was working through his options.

“You’re heading south. Towards King’s Landing I assume?” Ned nodded in agreement. H’ghar’s eyes traveled to Arya who was still on the ground, her wound being nursed by the Maester. Sansa noticed that even though Arya was being poked and prodded in a very uncomfortable way, she never took her eyes from H’ghar. “A debt is owed.” He whispered lightly. If Sansa was not standing beside the man, she wouldn’t have heard it at all. She looked over to her husband and it was clear that he heard the words as well. “Gold Cloaks attacked us during our travels. If it would be suitable for you, I would like to travel back to King’s Landing. If not, I will make my own way.”

“Why would the King’s guard set out and attack a party traveling to the Wall?” Ned asked. “If you do not want to travel to the Wall I am sure we can handle one more person joining us.” Ned didn’t trust the man which was clear but found no reason as to why he should deny him. He hadn’t taken his vows and thus Ned knew that he could not be considered a deserter, thus he warranted no punishment that was given to those who deserted the Wall.

“They were looking for someone. A boy named Gendry.”

“Was this boy traveling with you and did they find him?” Ned asked and H’ghar hesitated before he answered. It appeared that he knew more than he was willing to give Ned. Yet, his eyes kept looking toward Arya and Sansa wasn’t sure if she was comfortable with the man’s fascination with her sister.

“No. They did not find him. He is gone.” H’ghar replied and Ned nodded, satisfied with the answer. Sansa wondered what the King’s Guard would want with a boy named Gendry, someone who she had never heard of before. Could it be the same reason Renly disappeared from the Capitol or a reason completely unrelated? Sansa looked toward her husband and he wore that familiar look upon his face. She knew he would be sending a raven to the many people he had working for him in King’s Landing, trying to discover who this Gendry was and why he would be running from King’s Landing. “I thank you for your generosity.”

“Jory, make sure our guest has a horse for his travels.” The head of her father’s guard stepped forward and motioned for H’ghar to follow him. The two of them left, heading toward the back of the heard and Ned turned back to Arya. “I should send you right back to Winterfell for disobeying me.”

“I’m sorry but I couldn’t just leave them there.” Arya stated. She hissed again when the Maester attempted to clean her wound. “I heard them screaming and I just couldn’t live with myself if I allowed someone to burn to death when there was something I could do about it.” Arya was a true Stark because she knew that her father would have done the exact same thing she had done. Baelish pulled on Sansa’s hand and began to pull her from the small gathering that was forming around Arya. Looking over her shoulder to see if her sister was indeed alright, she allowed herself to be steered away from the mass of people. He walked her back to the carriage and Sansa saw Roslin standing near her brother, who was speaking with Edmure. Baelish pulled her around the carriage and out of sight of the trio who was on the other side.

“Are you alright?” Baelish looked at her with true concern in his eyes. She realized that when he didn’t find her by the carriage, he must have panicked and ran into the woods after her. She felt guilty for causing him such worry. At the time, all she could think about was following her sister and prevent her from falling into harm’s way. Sansa leaned up and placed her lips upon his. It was a gentle apology.

“I’m alright. Exhausted but alright.” Sansa replied. “I’m sorry for frightening you.” Baelish gave her a weak smile and pulled her close. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and rested her head on his shoulder. She felt him kiss the top of her red hair. She inhaled but instead of smelling mint as she normally would have, her husband smelt of soot and smoke. She pulled away and looked him in the eyes. She could tell that while he was concerned for her, he was also running the events through his head. “Do you know who this Jaqen H’ghar is?”

“No.” Baelish stated. “But I have a theory.” When he didn’t elaborate, Sansa raised her eyebrow, causing her husband to laugh. “If he is who I think he is then your sister just made a very useful friend.” He smirked slightly at the thought. “I’ve used their services before and they are not cheap. I wonder who hired him and why he is here. Of course as long as neither of us are the recipient of such services, I will leave that matter alone.”

“Services? Who exactly is this man?”

“An assassin.” Sansa’s eyes widened at the news. She wasn’t sure if she was shocked by the news that her sister just saved a man who received compensation for taking other's lives or that her husband has used such services before. Neither particularly bothered her but the news on both accounts were still startling.

“And do you plan on using my sister’s connection to further your own agenda?” There were possibilities there of course and for a split second, Sansa allowed her mind to wonder down the path of who she would have this assassin take care of instead of getting her own hands bloody but Baelish shook his head in the negative direction. She pouted, sticking her bottom lip out. He leaned in and took her lips in-between his teeth. “Why not?”

“I’m more curious to see what Arya does with such a friend and how she asks him to repay such a debt.” There was a mischievous glint in his eye and it always baffled Sansa at the interest Baelish had for Arya. He explained why Jon fascinated him and Robb was obvious but Arya was still a mystery to her. He always took interest in her sword play and now he seemed pleased with Arya’s new friend. It was almost as though he nurtured Arya’s violent side. “But what I do intend to investigate is why Gold Cloaks attacked a party traveling to the Wall. Such things are not heard of.”

“Do you know who this Gendry is?”

“No. But I intend to find out.” Voices began to approach and it appeared that the party would begin their travels again. A few men would be staying behind in order to give those boys who were slaughtered a proper burial but the rest would be continuing south. Baelish led Sansa back around the carriage, toward the carriage door. She looked around and noticed that Stevron had moved away but Roslin was still making conversation with Edmure.

Baelish opened the door to the carriage and helped Sansa inside. Before she sat down in the carriage, he held out her hand and kissed the back of it. She smiled at him and batted him away slightly. He laughed and retreated. Sansa watched his back as he walked away from the carriage. She leaned back into the seat and sat alone for several minutes. She eventually heard Arya’s voice approach and distantly heard her father say something.

“I will. I promise.” Arya replied in an exasperated tone. Arya placed her hand on the handle and Sansa saw the door move slightly. However, Arya paused and Sansa turned her head when she heard that strange accent again.

“Girl.” H’ghar stated and Sansa assumed that he was hoping to have a moment alone with her. But seeing that Arya had been injured, she had been surrounded by people. Sansa heard the door creak as though Arya let the door handle go. She heard the crutching of stone and it seemed that Arya moved away from the carriage. “A man owes you a debt. A man pays his debts. A man owes three.”

“Three what?”

“The Red god takes what is his, lovely girl. And only death may pay for life. You saved me and the two I was with. You stole three deaths from the Red God. We have to give them back. Speak three names, and a man will do the rest. Three lives I will give you. No more, no less. And we’re done.”

Sansa’s mind worked furiously. Her sister could choose man, women or child and this man would kill them for her. All she would have to do is say their name and she would sign their death warrant. There were so many possibilities that Sansa could use. Yet, none of them really came to her, except one and this one wasn’t something she was willing to do. Arya stepped into the carriage and froze. She locked eyes with her sister and it was clear that Arya understood that Sansa heard the entire conversation.

“Joffery. Is mine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm curious to see if any of you guessed or assumed that I would bring Jaqen H'ghar into the mix? Well? I'm a big fan of dropping small hints as to what is going to happen but I couldn't figure out how to do such a thing with him. So, he kind of became one of those plot points that would be have to just be a surprise. 
> 
> Thoughts?


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes. Twice in one day. I wasn't expecting it either. Trust me. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter because it is the last one before King's Landing and I wanted to give them one last happy before I toss them into the lions den!

The farther south they traveled, the nicer the taverns became. The wood of the tavern was slightly less warn and each room had their own fire place, which Sansa was surprised to learn was not common in every tavern. This one in particular was extremely elegant but Sansa bulked at the price for just one night in a place like this. Most of the party set up camp in the woods surrounding the tavern but Baelish insisted that he and his wife would be staying in comfort for the night. A few others besides the newlyweds also paid to stay the night in the tavern, but those were few and far between.

Their chamber was bigger than most, a chamber that was reserved for only the wealthiest. A four-poster bed was pressed up against the south wall. The sheets were made of light silk, although Sansa believed that her husband instructed such sheets to make up the bed. She was certain that such finery would never belong to a tavern, no matter how lavish it might be. Sansa stood from the vanity and walked barefoot toward the bed. She giggled and jumped onto the bed, letting her back hit the many pillows that lined the bed.

They had been traveling for over a month and this would be the first real bed she slept in since leaving Winterfell. The other taverns they had slept in, while more comfortable than a tent, were not as extravagant. The night they slept at the Twins had been pleasing but Stevron made no efforts to really impress his guests. When she first stepped into the chamber, she had squealed and turned to kiss her husband on the cheek. He wore a wide smirk and it was obvious that he was pleased with her happiness. It was clear that he knew that she was growing tired of traveling and no matter how nervous the idea of King's Landing made her, it would be nice to be able to have a place to call home again. 

Sansa closed her eyes and let the silk just rest on her skin. Baelish had stepped out in order to collect some ravens that had come for him and once her trucks had been brought up to their chambers, she wasted no time stripping off her dress and tearing her corset off. She was in nothing more than her chase that went under her dress. It was no wonder she felt relieved to have her clothing disregarded because she never realized how hot the Mediterranean climate would be. Baelish had made an off hand comment about having to order her some lighter dresses but she had been far to busy worried about what his hands were doing to her to really comprehend what his lips were saying. 

The door creaked opened and her husband stepped into the chamber with several pieces of parchment and a few small packages in his hand. He seemed distracted by his reading but when he looked up and saw Sansa lying comfortably in the middle of the bed. He smirked at her and slowly sat the items he was holding in his hand down upon the wooden vanity. 

She sat up on her elbows and looked at Baelish from head to toe. He dressed lighter in the warmer weather. He still wore long coats that nearly touched the floor but they were made of silk instead of heavier material. They were beautifully intricate in design and soft a the touch. While Sansa already had an issue with keeping her hands to herself when it came to her husband, the silk only made it all to easy for her to reach out and run her fingertips up his arms. 

Baelish kicked off his boots and made his way toward the bed as he rolled his sleeves up to his elbow. He climbed on the bed and eased his way up to Sansa who laid flat on her back, resting her head against the pillows. Baelish rested his body weight on top of her and Sansa made herself comfortable underneath him. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. 

“I see you are making use of the bed?” Baelish asked. Sansa giggled and leaned up to kiss him. He smiled into her lips but made no move to take anything further. He moved off of her and leaned himself against the headboard and Sansa pouted. Ever since her courses came and went, relations have been minimal but not for the lack of trying. It appeared that her father made it his personal mission to keep the two of them apart for the remainder of their journey. Sansa moved to place her head on his lap and Baelish began to run his hands through her red hair. 

“I noticed you received a few ravens.” Sansa replied and Baelish chuckled. He continued to run his fingers through her hair. “Did you find anything interesting? Are their scandals brewing in King's Landing that we should be aware of when we arrive?” They were two days away from arriving in King's Landing and with every passing second, Sansa grew more and more concerned about the inevitable. 

“Well, Stannis Baratheon has been arrested for treason.” Baelish stated in almost off hand manner. Sansa sat up straight, with wide eyes which caused Baelish to laugh. “Sweetling, you can't be that surprised. It's almost to be expected.” He smirked and Sansa narrowed her eyes. He seemed extremely smug and satisfied. 

“What did you do?” 

“I just made sure that the Gold Cloaks remained loyal to the throne instead of partaking in any offers that may have been extended their way.” Sansa crossed her arms and smirked at him. What Baelish meant was that he gave them so must gold that any other offer would seem cheap in comparison. “We need Joffery on the throne for a bit longer and Stannis was attempting to overthrow him.”

“Overthrow him how?” Sansa asked. She knew that Stannis had been made Hand of the King when her father refused the position. Baelish had once told her that while he was the Hand, he held no real power. When King Robert was alive, he completely ignored any advice that Stannis offered. She was sure that the complete disregard would have ate away at Stannis. Now that his brother was dead, he attempted to overthrow the new king, Stannis must have known that he was the rightful heir to the throne. “Stannis knew that Joffery wasn't King Robert's son.” 

“Yes and he attempted to prove that Joffery was Cersei's in-breaded bastard. He almost succeeded. However if Stannis took the Iron Throne then it would very bad for us.” Sansa leaned in and Baelish wrapped his arms around her. If Stannis would sit upon the Iron Throne, Sansa knew that everything Baelish had worked for would have disappeared. Stannis would have eventually discovered Baelish's role in bankrupting Westeros and that alone would have led to his execution. If Stannis ever uncovered any of the other dealings he had a hand in, then she knew both of them would be dead before Stannis even had a chance to warm the Iron Throne. 

“Did you learn anything about the boy named Gendry?” She whispered as she traced the mockingbird pin that was pinned to his silk coat. He had told her after the massacre in the Eyrie that was was going to write to his contacts in King's Landing and discover why exactly the Gold Cloaks had killed those boys and why they were after this Gendry. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head before speaking. 

“He is one of King Robert's bastards.” Baelish stated in disinterest. “Which is unsurprising, seeing that he had so many. When Stannis attempted to over throw the new king, he purposefully leaked the truth about Joffery's parentage, Joffery decided to have every single one of his bastards executed, including the infants. This Gendry left King's Landing just after the order was given and no one has seen him since.” Sansa closed her eyes but all she could see was those poor innocent boys whose corpses were left to rot by the men who murdered them.

“Why now? Why would Stannis wait to reveal the truth until after his brother's death?” It didn't make sense to her. “Stannis had six years as Hand of the King to convince his brother of his wife's infidelity. So why now?” 

“Because King Robert wouldn't listen. You've met the king before and you know how he was. He would do anything to just spite his brother. If Stannis revealed the truth, King Robert wouldn't believe him simply because it came from Stannis. However, that would only be possible if Stannis was aware of Cersei's affair with Jaime. Jon Arryn and Stannis were looking into King Robert's bastards but Jon Arryn never informed him as to why. He believed that it was far too dangerous. Trust me Sweetling, if Stannis knew the truth before, I would has assured that he was long in his gave by now.”

“Then how did Stannis learn the truth?” Sansa looked at her husband and saw that wide grin appear again. “You informed him didn't you?” She all but laughed. Of course he did. He knew exactly what Stannis would do if he learned such information and Baelish needed Stannis out of King's Landing and in no position of power. Baelish slid off the bed and held out his hand. 

“Enough talk for now. I have a gift for you.” Sansa looked at him with a small smile and placed her hand into his. He pulled her from the bed and led her over to the vanity. She sat down upon it and Baelish pulled out one of the small satchels that had arrived with his letters. He pulled apart the brown strings that were holding the package together and pulled out a small velvet box. Very slowly he clicked open the clasp that held the velvet box closed and revealed what laid inside. 

It was a replica of his mockingbird pin but instead it was a pendant that was attached to a black choker. The mockingbird was smaller than her husband's and it had a more delicate touch to it but it was still very beautiful. It was silver, just like his and Sansa could see that pendant could slip off the choker easily. Sansa fingered the bird lightly and gave her husband a small smile through the mirror. Baelish took the choker from the box and pushed her hair to the side. He fashioned the choker around her neck and Sansa let it rest against her pale skin. 

“It's beautiful.” 

“I ordered about thirty different colored chokers and several chains, all of different makings, to fit that pendant.” Baelish leaned down and kissed her shoulder. He trailed his lips from her shoulder to her neck and then he kissed the spot behind her ear. “You can wear that pendant everyday and no one would ever question who you are and that you're mine.” Their eyes locked in the mirror and Sansa could feel her heart begin to beat faster. 

She stood from the vanity and turned around to face him. Her hand reached up to her shoulder and she slowly pushed the small strap of her sleeping chase down. She did the exact same thing to the other strap, all the while Baelish stood still. His eyes traced her body as the chase slipped from her body and landed on the floor. Sansa stepped out of the dress and toward her husband, wearing nothing more than the choker with the mockingbird pendant. 

Baelish placed his hands on her naked hips and Sansa leaned in to kiss him fully on the mouth. She pressed herself against his clothed chest. He moved his arms to pull her closer as she weaved her hands into his black hair. They kissed for a few moments, their tongues battling with each other. Baelish reached up to unclip his pin which held his coat together. However, Sansa stopped his hand.

“No. Leave it on.” Sansa whispered to him. She took his hand and led him over to the bed. Baelish followed her willingly. She sat down on the bed and scooted back, allowing the silk to brush against her naked skin. Her eyes never left her husband's. He crawled onto the bed after her and she leaned back against the bed. Her legs parted slightly as he settled between them. He kissed her lips again but it was only a few light kisses. Soon his lips trailed down her neck and her collar bone as he slowly made his way to the pendant. 

Once he reached the pendant, he placed a kiss on the small mockingbird before moving further south. He kissed the top of her breast before taking the tip between his lips. Sansa moaned with his tongue swirled against the peak. He reached up and cupped the other breast with his hand, allowing this thumb to trace over the other peak. Once he was done suckling, he switched over to the other breast and gave it the same treatment. Sansa put her hands into his hair and kneaded his scalp with her fingers. 

Slowly he trailed his lips away from her breast and down her flat stomach. He nipped and lightly bit at her skin. Sansa was certain she would be covered in his bites come morning, something she didn't mind. It wouldn't only be the mockingbird pendant that would signify that she was his. As his lips kissed lower, he moved his hand to part her legs. He kissed the inside of her thighs but avoided the place she desired most. Sansa whimpered and moaned when Baelish missed her center. She arched her hips hoping to create some kind of friction. She could feel him smirk against her thigh and very slowly he stuck his tongue out and licked the entire length of her slit. 

“Petyr!” Sansa's toes curled and she arched of the bed. He licked and sucked at her pearl. Sansa looked down and she could see the smug look on his face. He was enjoying her reactions to his mechanisms. She felt him insert one of his fingers inside of her and it caused her to break eye contact. Her head fell back against the bed as he added a second finger and then a third. He pumped his fingers in and out of her, picking up speed as he went. Her moans grew louder and louder until the tension she felt building inside of her snap. Her toes curled and her back arched off the bed. “Petyr!” 

She felt him withdraw from her as she came down from her high. She propped herself back up on her elbows, breathing heavily. Baelish watched her for a moment, letting his eyes linger at her heaving chest. The mockingbird pendant moved with each breath she took. Sansa sat up and pushed the opening of his coat aside. She pulled at the laces holding his breeches together and once they were fully apart, she pushed them down far enough to allow his hardened member to be free. She smirked up at him as she took his member into his hand. She moved her hand up and down his length but he stopped her before she was able to take him into her mouth. 

“Lean back.” Baelish whispered and Sansa obeyed. She leaned back onto her elbows. Baelish pushed her legs farther apart before aligning himself with her opening. He eased into her and Sansa bit her bottom lip between her teeth. Baelish dug his fingers into her hips and started to move slowly in and out of her. Sansa looked down to where they were connected and she watched her husband pick up his pace. Faster and fast his hips began to beat against her. Sansa reached down and began to twirl her pearl with her finger.

“Don't stop. Please don't stop.” Sansa whimpered. She could see the coat move as he pounded inside of her. His mockingbird pin moved as the coat swayed. She heard her husband groan in pleasure and she knew that he was getting close. She moved her finger against herself faster, urging herself closer to that edge. Soon she felt herself fall over that edge again and she watched as her husband's jaw slacked and his seed spilled inside of her. Sansa let her arm give out and she collapsed against the bed. Baelish chuckled and pulled himself out of her. She was still sensitive and the loss of contact caused her to whimper. 

“Satisfied Sweetling?” Baelish asked with a self-satisfied tone. She popped her head up and saw that her husband wore that smug look upon his face. He was rather pleased with himself, as he always was when had just been inside of her. She narrowed her eyes and took her foot and pushed him away lightly. He laughed at her actions and grasped her ankle, which he kissed lightly. 

“You're rather pleased with yourself, are you not?” Sansa teased and Baelish smirked at her. She pulled her ankle away and scooted herself up toward the headboard. Baelish tossed her a handkerchief, which she used to clean herself. She then pulled the silk sheets down and settled underneath them. She laid her head against the pillows and watched her husband move about the chamber. 

“And you're not?” He continued to smirk at her. His fingers unclasped his mockingbird pin and placed it on the vanity. He undid the laces of his coat and shrugged it off. He tossed it onto his trunk before removing his light stockings. He pushed his breeches down his legs and pulled each of his legs out of them. He tossed the breeches beside the coat and pulled his silk tunic over his head. “I do believe that you were the one screaming my name.” 

“I did no such thing.” She teased, knowing full well that she had voiced her pleasure loudly. Baelish smirked at her again before strolling stark nude toward the bed. Sansa couldn't help but admire his form. Once he reached the other side of the bed, he pulled down the silk sheets and climbed into bed next to her. 

“Liar.” He leaned in and took her lips into his. Sansa wrapped her arms around his shoulder's as she felt him press her into the pillows. She felt his breast press against his naked chest and he placed his hands on her hips causing her to smile against his lips. He pulled away and kissed the tip of her nose. “Hi.”

“Hi.” She smiled at him. Baelish laid down against the pillows and pulled her close to him. Sansa snuggled into the nook of his arm and placed her heads against his chest. Her one hand reached up and took the small mockingbird pendant in her hand. She traced the silver and smiled . “I don't believe I said thank you for the gift. I adore it.” 

“Sweetling, you stripped off your chase, led me to the bed wearing only the gift I gave you and let me fuck you fast and hard. That is thank you enough.” Baelish leered at her and Sansa slapped his chest lightly. He laughed and she could feel the vibrations of his chest beneath her. She blushed lightly which only caused his to laugh harder. She honestly had no clue why his words still made her blush. During intercourse, she felt no embarrassment and didn't feel the need to hide. Yet, his crude words always brought a tint to her skin. She wouldn't change it for anything. 

“Crude.” She whispered against his chest. She kissed him lightly before relaxing next to him. She wrapped her leg around his middle. Baelish began to traced the length of her spine with his fingertips. Such action could easily cause her to fall asleep. “Where did you get this?” 

“I sent a raven to the man who made mine. I was notified that it was finished while we were at the Twins and had him send it here. I knew that the raven would be here around the same time that we would arrive.” Sansa looked at him with a small smile. She really did adore the pendant and never expected him to gift her with it. It was a surprise and she would cherish it always. 

“When did you order it?” 

“The morning after the night we spent in your father's solar.” Her mind flashed to that night and she could almost hear that storm raging outside. She remembered what it was like to feel him for the first time and how she wished they could have had one last moment against that desk. She felt her husband harden slightly beneath her and she knew that his mind was drifting to the same memory as her. She bit her lip and sat up slightly. 

“Well, I simply adore the mockingbird and I want to wear it always.” She sat up and threw her leg over his chest so she was straddling him. “But I want to give you a proper thank you, one that only you will enjoy.” She leaned down and kissed him firmly on the lips. She then trailed her kisses down his jaw and to his collar bone. 

Sansa kissed and nipped her way down his chest, trailing her nails behind her. Baelish hissed that the contact but let her have her way with him. She scooted herself down, pushing the silk sheets away from him and looked at his hardened member. She licked him and she heard him groan deeply from above her. She took him fully into her mouth and she felt him weave his fingers into her red hair. She bobbed her head but allowed him to guide her with his hands. She reached up and cupped him which only caused him to pull at her hair harder; not that she minded. She moaned and the vibrations called him to call out.

“Sansa! Stop. Please.” He pulled her away from him, causing his member to slip through her lips. She looked at him confused but her confusion ended when he grabbed her shoulders and threw her against the bed. It wasn't even a few seconds before he was on top of her and buried deep inside of her. It was fast, hard and rough. He pounded against her so furiously that she had to grab the headboard, which was clanking loudly against the stone wall, in order to just keep up with him. 

“Petyr!” Her legs were spread wide and up in the air. She wasn't expecting this. She was going to get him off with her mouth as a thank you but he always stopped her from allowing him to finish in that manner. He claimed that he preferred to be inside of her when he found his release. Sansa found her release far quicker than him because he was still pounding her when she came down from her high. She dragged her nails down his back and arched her's, pressing her breast against his chest. The contact caused him to still and spill himself inside her again. 

Sansa brought her legs down and let them rest against the bed. She was exhausted and spent; something she could tell that Baelish felt as well. He didn't move but allowed his weight to rest against her. His face was buried in her neck and she could feel him breathing heavily; his breath gracing her sticky skin. He was still inside of her and she knew he would be for a few more moments while he caught his breath. 

“Now that was a thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I had a rather fantastic day, despite the fact that yesterday will probably be the last time I will see the guy I was dating. I mean, who sleeps with someone on a second date? Not me and he didn't like that. Oh well. His loss. I'm not heartbroken and I'm actually kind of relieved. I'm so much better single. 
> 
> ANYWAY.
> 
> My fantastic day was spent writing in-between cooking and baking. We are having a pot-luck at work tomorrow and we are to bring the food of our ancestors or the region we came from (the office I work in is....well we're a strange bunch). So I asked my mom to help me make some good old Amish cooking.
> 
> Yes...I live in Amish country. No. I'm not Amish. If I was, I'm pretty sure they would have excommunicated me by now. I mean, I'm pretty sure this chapter alone would give them a heart attack......


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are finally arrived to KL!

King's Landing smelt of dead bodies and shit. The moment the carriage wheeled through the gates, it took everything Sansa had not to vomit out the window. When Baelish opened the carriage door and helped his wife down the steps he saw her pale and nauseated face. He assured her that over time she would grow use to the stench and eventually she wouldn't even notice it. Sansa didn't believe him but hoped that he was being honest with her. 

Some of the servants took their trunks up to their suits, before Baelish and Sansa had the opportunity to even enter the castle. They would be presented in the evening to the King but they had a few hours before they needed to be in the throne room. Baelish led Sansa through the castle and it baffled her how many people were located there. She supposed that not everyone lived there on a full time basis but instead visiting in order to pledge their loyalty. 

A few people stopped to speak with Baelish and he introduced his wife, causing their beady eyes to look her over. While no one would say it to her directly, she got the impression that all of them either judged her or pitied her. Either way, Sansa wasn't happy with either option. She would reply with something graceful and witty, always making it clear that she was Lady Sansa Baelish now and not Sansa Stark. It seemed to confuse the lesser minded men she met. 

Baelish took her to their suits and she was stunned by the beauty and the size of it. It was filled with all manner of color and splendor. There was a large wooden table that sat in the middle of the stone covered room with a bowl of the most delicious fruit sitting in the center of the table. There were a few plush couches that were pushed up against the walls and several brightly covered curtains hanging from the windows. Wooden bookshelves lined the walls and were filled with several leather bond books. There were a few doors lined the walls, each leading to a different part of their suites.

He then led her through a wooden door that led to a chamber that Sansa could only assume was a bathing area. Baelish had wrapped his arms around her waist and told her that this was originally meant to be his chambers but decided that he wanted to sleep never to her every morning. A large tub was stationed in a corner and was hidden behind a gold changing screen. A vanity was on the other side of the chamber and a small table was littered with different kind of soaps and shampoos. There was a small shelf under the table that was filled with the softest towels Sansa could imagine. 

Baelish stated that he would be back within the hour to collect her for the presentation. He kissed her cheek and let her alone in the bathing chamber. She heard him leave the suit and Sansa decided to explore for a moment while she waited for her new handmaiden to arrive in order to assist her. She entered the main area again and smiled when she saw Lady sprawled out on one of the couches. The large direwolf was nearly falling off of the couch. Sansa walked over to the wolf and scratched her behind the ears before placing a kiss on her head. 

She walked through the other door that was located on the other side of the room. She pushed the door open and entered what she assumed was the sleeping chambers. The largest bed she had ever seen was pressed against the farthest wall. The bed was covered in colorful silk and pillows of purple, red and orange colors. Sansa walked across the chamber and ran her finger tips across the silk. There was a pair of glass doors that were covered by red curtains, blocking the chamber from view. The doors opened to reveal a balcony that overlooked the ocean. On the other side of chamber was a small archway that lead into a small room with small stain glass windows lining the stone walls. This room was empty. A nursery. 

She turned when she heard the door open and Lady begin to growl. Sansa moved quickly and saw a poor terrified women leaning up against the wooden door with wide eyes. The girl had dark curly hair that was halfway held back with Sansa assumed was a clip. She was in a pale pink dress that was had a silver plate around her neck and a matching belt around her waist. It was clear that the dress was less than extravagant but was still made of finer material than most servants. 

“Lady!” Sansa stated in a stern voice and the direwolf backed away. The wolf crawled back up on the couch and stretched out. The girl pulled away from the wall slightly and slowly backed away from the wolf but never took her dark eyes off of Lady. “She won't hurt you. Not without my command. I'm Lady Sansa Baelish and who are you?” 

“Shae m'lady.” Shae stated with confidence and gave a small curtsy. She had an accent that wasn't native to Westeros and it made Sansa wonder how exactly she came into her position. Sansa's eyes traveled over her with suspicion. Baelish had warned her to trust no one in King's Landing. She had hoped that she would grow close to her handmaiden but she wondered if that would be the case with Shae. 

“I see and who appointed you Shae?” 

“The King. He said I was gift.” A spy, and more likely one from the Lannisters and not just the King. The thought of receiving any type of gift from the King made her nauseous. She nodded and made her way toward the bathing chamber again and Shae followed her. Sansa sat down at the vanity and pulled her hair down from the top of her head. Shae stood behind her and waited for instruction. It was clear that Shae was not used to being a handmaiden and perhaps was never one before. 

“I want my hair braided and then pulled up on top of my head. Do you think you can handle that?” Sansa asked and Shae nodded. The foreign girl agreed and began her work. While Sansa was certain that she had never been a handmaiden before, she couldn't deny that she was talented when it came to hair. “How old are you Shae?”

“Twenty-four.” Not a girl then, Sansa corrected and that made her all the more dangerous. Shae appeared younger than she was, much in the same way Arya appeared and Sansa knew how Arya used that to her advantage. She wondered if Shae was of the same inclination. Sansa then began asking Shae questions as she worked on her hair. She asked where she came from, a question she skillfully avoided, how she came to Westeros, how she knew the King and several other inquiring questions, none of which Shae answered to Sansa's satisfaction. 

Once Shae was done with her hair, Sansa inspected her handy work and couldn't deny that she was impressed. She wanted something similar to the style she wore when she got married but this was completely different but just as beautiful. She nodded in satisfaction to the other woman and stood from the vanity. Sansa swept from the bathing chamber and through the main room to the sleeping chamber. 

“In that truck,” Sansa pointed the the trunk that was located beneath a small window. “is a silk blue dress with white crystal beading in the back. That is the dress I want to wear for the presentation.” It had been a gift from Baelish that he gave her when they passed through the village just outside of King's Landing. Shae nodded, pulled the dress from the trunk and laid it out on the bed. 

Sansa walked over to what appeared to be a dresser but the drawers were far to small. Sansa opened each one and saw chokers of all different colors and chains. There were also barrettes and hair clips of all kinds along with some other extravagant jewelry. She smirked and shook her head. Her husband was far too generous. She ran her fingers over the chokers and pulled one that was a light blue. She walked over to the dress and held the choker next to the dress and noticed that they would be a perfect match. She place the choker on the bed and reached behind her to unclasp the black choker she was currently wearing. She slid the mockingbird pendant off and looped it through the new choker. She walked away from the bed and slowly undid her dress. 

She slid it from her shoulders and asked Shae to undo her corset. The dress she would be wearing had no need for a corset or even a chase underneath. It would show more skin than she was used to but Baelish assured her that it was custom in King's Landing due to the hot weather. Once the corset was off and placed on the bed, Shae held up the dress. The front was made of silk but their was a second layer that prevented from showing to much of her body through the dress. The back was silk as well but only covered from her bottom down. The rest was completely open but had an intricate design made completely of white crystals. 

Sansa kicked off her boots and stockings and slipped her chase off. Shae eyed the knife that was holstered on her thigh. Sansa saw her looking at the dagger and pursed her lips. She was completely naked in front of a stranger but she refused herself to be embarrassed. Instead she stood tall and proud and glared at Shae. 

“Mention that to no one, do you understand me?” Sansa warned and Shae looked Sansa directly in the eyes. Slowly Shae lifted the bottom of her skirt and twisted her foot slightly to reveal her own holster that held a long and thin dagger. Sansa smirked and nodded at her. There was far more to Shae than even Sansa realized. She of course was worried that Shae would report back the Lannisters about her dagger but she wanted to test her. She wanted to see where her loyalty would lie. She expected no loyalty from her but she needed to know who Shae reported to. 

Sansa slipped the dress on and Shae adjusted the back of it. Shae picked up the choker and fastened it around her neck. The foreign girl walked over to the trunk and picked up a pair of crystal sandals that Baelish had bought his wife alongside the dress. Sansa slipped the shoes on, finding it odd that most of her feet were uncovered. Sansa walked over to the full length mirror that was hanging by the archway that led to the nursery. Sansa took in her appearance and had to admit that she was beautiful. 

The two women turned when they heard the door creak open and Baelish stood in the archway. His eyes traveled the length of her and his devious smirk appeared on his lips. She saw Shae stiffen as though his leer was something that Sansa needed to be protected from but Sansa brushed right by her and kissed her husband fully on the lips; proving that the last person she needed protecting from was Baelish. 

“Shae this is my husband, Lord Baelish, Petyr, this is Shae my handmaiden and a gift from the King.” Baelish's eyebrow raised and he gave her a brief nod before turning to the handmaiden. He greeted her, proclaiming that he was highly pleased with his wife's beautiful appearance before turning back to Sansa.

“The presentation will be starting soon and we needed to be headed downstairs.” Sansa nodded in agreement and felt her stomach churn. She dug her nails into her husband's arm. This was the moment she had been dreading. Sansa began to shake and she closed her eyes. “Leave us.” Baelish's voice sounded and Sansa heard the door close. He steered her toward the plush chair near the wardrobe and rubbed his arms gently. “Are you alright?” Sansa nodded and Baelish leaned up to kiss forehead. “We will be in a hall full of people. That is the last place that the King would ever harm you or anyone else, not when he needs to win public opinion, which he is lacking at the moment. Not to mention Cersei and Tywin will also be in attendance.” Sansa snorted and Baelish gave her a small smile. “I despise them just as much as you do but their presence will be useful.” Sansa nodded and leaned up to kiss him gently. “Are you ready?”

“As I ever will be.” She answered and stood. She looped her arm through his and held it closely, vowing only to let it go when she had to do the curtsy. The remainder of the time she would stay latched to his arm. Baelish led her out to the main part of their suits and she saw Shae waiting for them. There was worry in her eyes and Sansa felt flattered at her concern. She stopped, bringing her husband to a halt. “Shae, I would be very grateful if you could unpack our trunks and have our clothes hanging in the wardrobe when we return.” Shae nodded in agreement. “Thank you. Come Lady.” The direwolf jumped from the sofa and padded after Sansa and Baelish. There was no way she was entering the throne room without her wolf by her side. 

Baelish and Sansa strolled down the stone halls, arms linked together. Her mind was racing and Sansa needed something to distract herself. She tried admiring the castle or even watching the people they passed but nothing would do. The people gave them a wide birth as they walked down the corridor, mainly because none of them had seen a direwolf in person before. The distance they gave her and her husband actually gave Sansa a sense of comfort. Lady would be useful for many things and this would just add to that list. 

“Did you learn anything of interest since we arrived?” Sansa whispered. Baelish turned his head and looked at her, clearly not expecting her to speak. He nodded and waited to pass a few more people before he divulged in the secrets he learned. He leaned closer to her and Sansa could feel his warm breath against her ear.

“I learned that we are to have a rather busy day tomorrow.” He leaned away and smiled at a few people who passed by. They turned a corner and there were very few people who lingered there. Sansa was sure that this was a shorter way to the throne room and while she knew it would give them some privacy, she wasn't thrilled that she would be that much closer to facing Joffery for the first time in three years. “Stannis Baratheon is set to be executed at noon tomorrow.” 

“What!” Sansa paused in her tracks looking at her husband with wide eyes. She looked around and noticed that they were alone in the corridor. “So soon? I thought he would have a trial or something? But to have him executed without time to...I don't know.” Baelish walked closer to her and placed his hands on her shoulders in comfort. 

“Stannis has proved himself to be a traitor in the crown's eyes. Not to mention that Joffery knows by now of his true parentage and wants rid of anyone who might challenge his throne. Which is why he ordered all of King Robert's bastards to be slaughtered, why Gold Cloaks are searching all of Westeros for a boy named Gendry, and why Renly fled before Joffery had a chance to arrest him. Anyone who is a threat to his throne will die.” Sansa swallowed and nodded. 

“Didn't Stannis have a daughter?” Sansa whispered. Baelish nodded. “What happened to her?”

“She disappeared.” Sansa raised an eyebrow and her husband smirked. She would bet anything that he knew exactly how and why Stannis's daughter vanished. “She vanished the same day as Renly. I'm positive that Stannis knew what he was getting into could possibly end his life and wanted Shireen gone. When his wife died in childbirth last year, his daughter was the last thing he had to hold onto. So he arranged Renly to flee the city with her.” 

“I thought Stannis and Renly hated each other.”

“They did but Shireen was the only thing they could agree on.” Sansa nodded. In any other situation, the knowledge that Shireen, a young girl who she never set eyes upon, was safe and would not have to watch her father be executed would bring Sansa comfort. She linked her arms through Baelish's again and they began their stroll. They turned and weaved their way through the castled until hey made their way to a small entranceway where a crowed of people were waiting. She saw several people she recognized and many she didn't. Edmure was near the front and a few ways back she saw Roslin, who looked beautiful, standing near her brother. 

Ned, who was dressed in a grey tunic with large direwolf pin on his front and his hair tied back to keep the light brown curls from his face. Robb was standing next to him and he wore his signature blood red with the grey direwolf etched onto chest. Arya, who looked completely bored, was also dressed to the nines. Her long brown hair was piled onto the top of her head with a few loose curls lining her face. She was in a light green dress that Sansa recognized as her's from a few years ago, before her growth spirt. Ned turned when they saw them enter and he eyed his daughter from head to toe. His lips pursed and it was clear he disapproved of the dress she had decided to wear. Yet, he said nothing, instead trailing his eyes toward Lady who stood by her side.

“Do you think it wise to bring Lady with you. I commanded Robb and Arya to leave their's behind.” Ned asked and Sansa could tell that Arya wanted to bring Nymeria with her. She was sure that Nymeria and Greywind were in the Godswood somewhere, hunting for some innocent prey. 

“I asked Sansa to keep Lady with her at all times. King's Landing is not Winterfell and I would be distraught if anything would happen to her.” Baelish stated and kissed Sansa on the cheek. She smiled but even his kind words could not prevent her from feeling scared. Her nerves were a wreck and she felt that at any moment she might either vomit or cry. She felt a hand slip into her's and she turned to see Arya standing by her side. Sansa gripped her hand tighter.

Slowly the doors at the front of the entranceway opened. She could see into the throne room but it was difficult to make everything out over the heads of all the people. One by one, names of the nobel houses would be called and a few people would leave the entranceway to pass through the giant wooden doors. It would be a few moments of quiet, a few words needed to be exchanged between the King and the nobles. Soon the crowed thinned and it was their turn. Arya stood on her tip toes and kissed Sansa on the cheek. 

“You're stronger than him. Remember that.” Arya stated and slowly let go of her hand. Baelish tightened his grip on her arm and they stepped through the wooden doors. They paused once they passed through them and Sansa looked around. All eyes were on them. Some were looking at her husband while other's eyes were trained on her. Whispers followed as they looked at her with slow judgmental glares. Some eyes were wide with fear when they saw Lady at her heels. 

“Lord Petyr and Lady Sansa of House Baelish of Harrenhal.” Their names rang through the hall and Sansa dug her nails into Baelish's arm. He made no motion of pain or that he minded her intrusion. Sansa squared her shoulder's and looked straight ahead. She inhaled deeply and put one foot in-front of the other. Her gaze never wavered as they drew closer and closer to the Iron Throne. She could hear voices trailing them as they passed but she couldn't make out what they were saying. Either way, she didn't care. Her eyes were locked with the throne and she could feel her face fall into the mask of stone. 

The King came into view then, with his ever faithful guard, Ser Meryn Trant standing guard behind him. Sansa had the urge to raise her hand to her throat but couldn't give either of them the satisfaction. Joffery was taller than she remembered, he must have grown. His hair was as golden as ever and that entitled sneer was still plastered on his flawless skin. He was beautiful but the look in his eyes were pure evil. He sat upon the throne in a lazy, comfortable manner as though he had always been there. The crown rested upon his head was made of pure gold it made him appear so much more terrifying than he had been that night in the Godswood. 

King Joffery of House Baratheon sat before her on the Iron Throne as the most powerful man in the Seven Kingdoms and it took everything she had inside of her not break into a thousands tiny little pieces. Simply being in front of the monster who robbed her of everything she once held dear made her want nothing more than to take the strings that held his elegant coat together and strangle him with it. She wanted to watch the life leave his eyes.

Sansa's eyes locked with Joffery's cold ones and she felt the rush of pure hatred run through her. Bloodlust pounded in her ears and it took everything she had to keep her mask perfectly in place. It was hard for her to keep her emotions from playing on her features. She felt Lady stiffen beside her but she never uttered one growl and just like her master, the direwolf's eyes watched the new King. Joffery didn't even seemed phased by the direwolf's presence. 

King Joffery of House Baratheon sat in front of her on the Iron Throne.

King Joffery of House Baratheon was the most powerful man in all of the Seven Kingdoms. 

King Joffery of House Baratheon robbed Sansa of her innocence. 

King Joffery of House Baratheon haunted her nightmares, while she was both awake and asleep. 

King Joffery of House Baratheon was Sansa's own personal demon.

And she felt herself bow to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate me! I know it was awful but it needed to be done.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on fire man! I was so excited to get to KL that I'm just enjoying the story flowing at my fingertips!

Sansa never broke eye-contact with the King. Not once. When her knees were bent, they nearly touched the stone floor. She bowed as far as she could, all the while glaring into his eyes. Joffery sneered at her. His cruel eyes traced her body while his fingers went to his lips. Sansa knew that he was reliving the Godswood again and what she must have felt like. That look and those eyes sent a shiver down her spine. She felt bile rise in her throat and it threatened to spill out onto the ground. She swallowed it down, refusing to give him the satisfaction that he had any type of control over her.

She stood slowly and squared her shoulders. She linked her arms through Baelish's, grasping him as tightly as she could. Her nails dug into his arm again and she felt a small margin of calm wash over her. Baelish gave Joffery a steady glare, marking his territory, and flashed his infamous leer at the young King. Joffery's hand twitched slightly, knowing he couldn't touch her without the entirety of Westeros revolting around him. That displeased sneer appeared on his lips and for the first time since she laid eyes upon him again, she smiled. Her smile almost caused to her laugh at him. His anger and frustration gave her power and felt high on it. Baelish gave her that. Her feelings were mixed between terror and elation. 

Feeling slightly more secure standing next to her husband, Sansa broke her eyes contact for a moment, allowing her to take in those who surrounded the King. On his left was the Queen Mother, Cersei Lannister. She looked as elegant and beautiful as ever. She wore that false smile that made Sansa admire her so long ago. She was graceful and had the presence of a true Queen. Sansa hated her because all she could see was the women who murdered her brother and the mother who born a monster; Sansa wanted nothing more than to wrap her gold hair around her neck and hold it tight. Three people surrounded Cersei, her two other children Myrcella and Tommen and a tall man who Sansa could only assume was her father, Tywin Lannister.

However, there were two people next to Tywin that she had never seen before. There was an older women who was extremely beautiful. She had chestnut curls piled up on her head with hints of grey littered through it. She stood a ways back but there was an essence of power about her. Next to her was a younger girl with long hair the same tint as the older women. Sansa could only conclude that his was her daughter. The older women leaned up and whispered into Tywin's ear and he nodded. Whoever they were, they were in bed with the Lannisters and were no friends of Sansa's. 

Her ice blue eyes passed over them all and looked toward Joffery's other side. Next to him was a very beautiful women around her age sitting next to him. Her chocolate hair was long enough to reach her waist. She held herself in a very graceful manner and Sansa could tell that behind her pretty face was a mind far sharper than Joffery's. The woman reached up and took Joffery's hand in her's. Joffery kissed it and Sansa knew it was an attempt to taunt her. Yet, it made her feel powerful. This was Margaery Tyrell and Sansa could tell that she had Joffery wrapped around her finger; something that would provide to be useful for Sansa.

She smiled then, wildly. Joffery was terrifying that was certain however, the thought that someone had any type of control over him, and he was completely unaware of the fact, brought joy to her. If she could befriend Margaery then perhaps she could influence him and his decisions. She knew that Baelish had an alliance with the Tyrells. He put them in a position of power and could easily take it away. She knew that they would want to make him happy. If Margaery was on the throne and with Baelish having some influence over the Tyrells, he had influence over the King and all of Westeros. Of course Joffery was reckless and could very well decide to ignore Margaery and all of his other handlers, but it was a risk she was willing to take. All Sansa had to do was gain Margaery’s trust. If Margaery wanted Sansa unharmed, then unharmed Sansa would be. She could tell that Joffery wanted to make Margaery happy, at least for the time being. He had been sweet to her in the beginning too.

Suddenly there was movement from beside Cersei and Sansa turned her head quickly. Myrcella stepped down the stone steps and walked toward Sansa and Baelish; both were caught off guard by her actions as was her family. Cersei had reached out to stop her daughter from moving forward but Tywin placed a hand on her shoulder, holding her back. Joffery leaned forward his eyes darting between his sister and Sansa.

“Lady Sansa, it is such a pleasure to have you at court.” Myrcella leaned forward and engulfed Sansa in a hug. She could feel the princess’s breath on her cheek has she whispered to her. “I’m so sorry for my brother, what he did to you. I’m just so sorry.” Myrcella pulled away and plastered a smile on her face. Sansa was touched by the princess’s words and she could tell that she was sincere. “I’m hoping that while you are here we can rekindle our friendship.” They had never been friends, not even the slightest. Myrcella took her hand in her’s and squeezed it gently. She turned and face the throne, but never let go of Sansa’s hand. “Joffery, it’s just wonderful that Sansa is here. Isn’t it?”

The siblings glared at each other, neither willing to waiver. Sansa gathered a significant amount of information in that glare. Myrcella was no fool and she was by far more intelligent than either of her brothers. She knew exactly what Joffery was, what he had done and what he might continue to do as King. Yet, the most important piece of information was that Sansa realized that Myrcella wasn’t afraid of her brother and was more than willing to challenge him. Myrcella declared Sansa a friend in front of the entire court and the court loved their princess; something Myrcella clearly used to her advantage.

“Yes. It’s just…wonderful.” Joffery sneered at her. An evil spark gleamed in his eyes. Slowly, he stood from the Iron Throne and took one step at a time. It was as though time slowed for Sansa and she could feel her heartbeat increase. Myrcella’s hand squeezed tighter and she felt Baelish stiffen beside her as the King approached, yet neither were able to do anything about it. It would be foolish to challenge the King. It wasn’t long before Joffery was standing directly in front of Sansa and she felt as though her insides were going to claw their way out of her. Her head felt light and she thought she might collapse on the ground if he came any closer.

The smell of honey filled her nostrils. Her mind flashed to the night in the Godswood and it took everything she had to not completely freeze and revolt. She wouldn't allow him to have that satisfaction. No, she would pretend that he didn't faze her. Joffery placed his hands on her shoulders and leaned in. He placed one kiss on her left cheek and then on her right. The touch, while it unnerved her, it was more of the fact that she was forced to kiss him back. Lady gave a small growl, that only Sansa could hear, from beside her. Joffery pulled away from her as fast as he came and stepped back toward the Iron Throne. 

Sansa looked around and dug her nails into his arm, deeper and deeper. Two faces stood out to her; Margaery just appeared sympathetic while Myrcella was furious. The princess gave Sansa's hand one last squeeze before she made her way back toward her mother. Sansa smiled but could feel her sides churning. She felt dirty and disgusting. She wanted nothing more than to scrub her body clean. Baelish pulled her toward the side and and her mind was completely blank. 

They stood on the side of the throne room and she could hear the chatter around her, yet she couldn't process any of it. Lady curled at her feet and she absentmindedly reached down to caress the wolf behind her hears. She felt Baelish rub small circles on her hand was still digging into his arm. She must be hurting him but he gave her no complaint. His gentle touches caused her nerves and disgust to be under control. The fact that his hands had just been on her was hitting her with complete and total revulsion. She could still feel his hands on her shoulder and his lips on her cheeks and that memory took everything she had inside of her not to break down. 

“Sweetling, tell me you're alright.” Baelish's voice sounded and she turned to him. His eyes shown bright and concerned. She could see that he was furious and if there wasn't so much to loose, he would have strangled the King on that very throne. There was bloodlust running through him and she could see that he had the urge to kill those who harmed her in the past. She wasn't able to speak because if she did, she was sure she would spill the breakfast she ate that morning all over the stone floor. Instead she just shook her head but she could tell that her husband didn't believe her. 

“Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell and Warden of the North with his son, Lord Robb Stark, Heir to Winterfell and his daughter Lady Arya Stark.” Sansa turned and saw her family slowly make their way toward the King. Ned appeared depressed and Sansa could only assume that it was because the last time he stood in those stone halls was during King Robert's Rebellion. Robb appeared indifferent toward the King but Sansa could see that her sister glared at Joffery with complete and total vengeance. All three of them bowed with their eyes on the King, yet each one read something different.

A small movement on her left caught her eye. She turned to see the young woman with long brown hair watching the three Starks with interest. She leaned back and asked her mother something and gave a gentle smile. Her eyes never left them and she blushed slightly. She saw that her brother had noticed her and his grin was the cause of her blush. Sansa's eyes continued to dance between Robb and the young woman. She grew displeased at the glances between the two of them and the look on her brother's face made her startle. He desired this unknown woman. 

“Lord Robb, it has come to my attention that you are to be married. Is this so?” King Joffery's voice sounded. Robb's eyes snapped from the young woman toward the King. The young woman's eyes darted between the King and Robb with worry. Robb cleared his throat and stood tall as though he was a man about to enter a war.

“I am.” His eyes traveled back to the young woman and Sansa could read the complete disappointment on her features. She looked down at her hand's and it appeared as though she might start to cry. Sansa felt sad for the girl but it was important to learn now that Robb was off limits and perhaps it best for her to turn her affections elsewhere. 

“Where is the blushing bride? I believe that she is here, isn't she? Step forward.” King Joffery proclaimed in his cocky all important voice. Sansa was sure that he knew that neither Robb nor Roslin were eager to be married to each other. She was unsure how such knowledge had been acquired but it wouldn't surprise her that Cersei had her spies lingering in the Riverlands. 

Slowly, Sansa felt Roslin step from behind her and toward the center of the hall. Stevron followed her with his chest puffed out and looked exceedingly proud and self-important. Sansa could tell that Roslin felt uncomfortable in the King's presence but placed each foot in front of the other. She bowed to the King again and saw that Robb held out his hand. The look upon Robb's face was almost heartbreaking. This was not a man who adored his bride but rather a man who accepted his fate. Roslin placed her hand in her betrothed's and stood next to him. 

“Your Grace.” Roslin's voice was soft but it rang crystal clear. 

“Well, are you not a beauty.” King Joffery stated and his eyes trailed over her in a sadistic manner. Sansa knew that he was imagining the worst possible torture he could imagine to inflict upon her. She was certain that Joffery wouldn't touch her but a servant girl would be screaming in the night. King Joffery stood and extended his arms toward Robb and Roslin. “Lord Robb, you are an old friend. I valued my time at Winterfell greatly. There are many aspect of you home that I enjoyed, particularly the Godswood for instance.” Sansa stilled, knowing that his words were directed at her. “And it is because of that friendship that I extend this offer. Since my father's untimely death, my lovely Margaery and I were forced to put our wedding on hold until the proper mourning time has passed. However, the preparations have all been made. I insists that you marry in our steed.” 

The hall was alit with cheer. To the outside world it appeared to be a generous offer from the King. However, Sansa saw it for exactly what it was, a taunt. The Starks were no friends of the Lannisters and Joffery was making it plain as day that he viewed them as an enemy. To Ned, he was flaunting Bran's death in front of him. To Robb, it was the power the King held to force his hand. To Sansa, it was the loss of her stolen virtue. To Arya, it was a combination of all three. They all hated the King and yet the King was the only one with the power in the rivalry. 

“My sister would be very grateful Your Grace!” Stevron exclaimed with a wide smile, not seeing the cruelty that the King was portraying. “Wouldn't the be right, dear sister?” Roslin looked at her brother with a hopeless look in her eyes. Roslin would always be loyal to her family and while she wanted nothing more than not to marry Robb, she would do so because that is what was commanded of her. 

“Of course. I would be honored Your Grace.” Roslin stated with her head held high. Sansa could see Roslin's shoulder's square and her gaze never left the King's eyes. If the King was going to condemn her to a miserable marriage, then he was going to have to look at her as he did so. King Joffery's sadistic smile grew and he was very pleased with the turn of events. 

“Wonderful. The wedding will commence in a weeks time.” With a wave of his hand, he turned and sat down upon his throne as he dismissed them. Ned, Robb and Arya along with Roslin and Stevron moved from the center of the hall and toward the crowd. The Starks were the last to be presented so the court completely disbanded. Laughter and chatter could be heard as the people of the court began to move to socialize. There would be a feast held to honor the King and those who presented themselves to him. It was to show gratitude for their loyalty, however, Sansa wanted no part of it. 

“Get me out of here.” Sansa whispered hoarsely to her husband. She looked at Baelish and he could tell that she was cracking. He placed his hand on the small of her back. He steered her around the bodies and avoided anyone who even appeared as though they would want to make conversation. Lady trailed at their feet which helped the navigation of the court. Yet, it seemed as though the crowd prevented Sansa and Baelish from getting toward their destination. 

“Lady Baelish.” Baelish froze in place and she saw that methodical mask fall perfectly into place. He turned and Sansa followed suit. Margaery was gliding toward them with a few gaggle of girl behind her. She smiled warmly at her but Sansa wondered how friendly it really was. Margaery paused a few paces back with her eyes on the direwolf. The wolf intimidated her slightly but she smiled; it took far more than some teeth and fur to frighten her. “I was hoping to have a moment before your husband stole you away.” Margaery smiled at Baelish. “It's always a pleasure to see you Lord Baelish.” 

“As it is you, Lady Margaery.” 

“Lady Baelish, my grandmother and I were planning on having lunch tomorrow after, well, the unpleasantness that is set to occur. We would be delighted if you were able to join us.” Margaery spoke with grace and Sansa could see how easy is was for the world to adore her. Anyone who even glanced at her could fall under her spell. It was no wonder that Joffery would do anything to please her. Sansa wondered how long she would be able to hold such power with him. Before to long he would turn on her just as he did Sansa. 

“Nothing would make me happier, Lady Margaery. I would be glad to dine with you.” Sansa stated with a smile gracing her lips. She needed to befriend her and it would have been unwise to turn down the offer. While she knew that is was unlikely but she had wanted some time to adjust to King's Landing before falling directly into the game. Yet, there was no rest in life they would lead. Everything could change in a moment and if she let herself rest, she could lose everything. “And please, call me Sansa.” 

“Only if you call me Margaery.” Margaery seemed genuinely happy with Sansa's acceptance. She reached out and took Sansa's hand and gave her a small squeeze. “I feel as though we are destined to be great friends. I will see you tomorrow then.”

“Tomorrow.” Sansa replied with a smile and watched as Margaery turned away. Her own person ladies followed her, leaving a massive amounts of giggling in their wake. Sansa looked around and saw that all eyes were upon her and that everyone witnessed the exchange. She came into this court as the ex-fiance of the King and the women who they believe seduced him but she was leaving as not only as a friend of the princess but a friend of the future Queen. She was Lady Baelish and Sansa vowed that the court around her would realize that. She turned to her husband who stood patiently by her side. “Let's go.” 

Sansa linked arms with Baelish and they glided toward the door. Sansa held her head high looking at everyone as she passed. She felt that familiar fear and panic rise up in her again. The wooden doors opened and they entered the entranceway. Instead of heading down the pathway that led to their suits, Sansa all but ran toward the door that lead to a large stone balcony. The balcony overlooked the sea and she found some comfort in the sounds of the crashing waves. 

She rested her hands flat against the hot stone. Her eyes closed as she attempted to calm the nerves that were pulsing through her. Behind her eyelids she could see Joffery's sneer glaring down at her from the throne. She could feel his lips upon her skin and his hands ripping at her dress. Sansa felt cold as though she was lying in the snow again. She dug her nails into the stone as she felt herself begin to shake. Her stomach churned and the bile she had been repressing rose in her throat. She leaned over the stone wall and heaved everything she eaten that day into the sea below. 

Sansa felt Baelish rest his hands on her back. He drew small circles on her back and whispered sweet nothings in her ear. Once everything had been expelled and all she could do was dry heave, Baelish pulled her into his arms and allowed herself to weep in his arms. Baelish placed a small kiss on the top of her head. He rocked her and held her as she allowed all her emotions to be drained from her. Once she was finished and she had nothing left inside of her, did she pull away. 

“Sansa, speak to me.” Baelish took her hands and kissed them. She smiled at him and kissed his head. She stood away from him for a moment and wrapped her arms around herself. Her heart began to slow and her mind became clearer. It was a moment of weakness but one that she needed. She held her ground in the throne room against Joffery and would have to do so again. She knew that all eyes had been upon her at various points and would continue to be so. 

“I'm fine. I just needed....I don't know, a moment to feel.” Sansa stated and Baelish nodded. He went behind her and wrapped his arms around her middle. Out of habit, Sansa leaned into him and let his warm overtake her. She always found comfort in his embrace. She placed her hands on top of his and closed her eyes. “Thank you for being there and not leaving me.”

“I vowed to stand beside you and I always will.” 

She looked up at him and kissed his cheek. She turned in his arms and wrapped her's around his neck. She rested her forehead against his. They leaned there for a time, allowing her to adjust to the events that had just transpired. When she broke away from him, Sansa looked around her and saw her father staring at them. His face was complete ashen as he stared at them and by his side as a plump bald man who wore rich purple robes.

“Who is that man?” Sansa asked and Baelish turned his head to follow her gaze. She saw her husband sneer toward the man. She pulled away slightly and looked at him. He gave her a small chuckle before placing a kiss on her forehead. 

“That is the eunuch, Lord Varys.” Baelish has told her of him before, calling him the Spider. He told her tales of their contest and maneuvers they played with each other. She turned to look at the man and saw him whisper into her father's ear. Ned never moved nor reacted toward what Varys was saying to him. Instead his eyes focused directly on his daughter and Sansa realized what he was being told. Of course Varys would hear of the rumors, for he heard everything. The complete broken look upon his face confirmed it for Sansa.

Ned Stark knew the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always imagined that if Joffery had a bit more time to grow into a man, he would be so much worse than he was in the books. I think he would have learned how to mentally torture his victims as well as physically torture them. He will never be highly intelligent but he is his mother's son.
> 
> anyway, what do you think??


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here was are again. Okay, so this chapter comes with a warning. It may be difficult for some to read but I am hoping that you plunge through it. I am really proud of it and I hope I don't cause to many tears.

The steam rose from the wooden tub as though a storm was brewing. The water was hotter than Sansa normally liked it but she needed to feel the scorching pain that came with boiling water. Once Baelish and she made their way back from the presentation and the feast that accompanied it, Sansa ordered Shae to draw her a bath. Once the tub was full and Shae poured the sweetest scents into the water, Baelish dismissed Shae stating that he would take care of his wife from there. The foreign woman gave a small bow before leaving the chamber.

Sansa sat in the water with her husband lounging beside the tub in nothing more than his breeches. In any other circumstances, Baelish would have been in the tub with her but she just couldn't face such an activity yet. It wasn’t that she didn’t desire her husband, for she always did, but it was the fact that she could still feel Joffery on her skin. She could feel his hands on her shoulders and his lips on her cheek. Just the memory of honey invading her personal space made her want to vomit again.

She scrubbed her skin as hard and as rough as she could. No matter how many times she washed her body, she couldn’t feel clean enough. The stench of him still lingered and nothing she could do would erase it. Baelish sat down by the tub and simply held her hand while she attempted to disinfect herself. He didn’t push her or even attempt to speak. He just sat there, holding her hand when she needed it or washed a part of her when she requested it.

He remained passive as she cleansed herself. His face was stone and hard, yet his emotions were anything but that. He wanted nothing more than to kill Joffery for simply touching her but he knew that doing so would be unwise and could potentially cause them to lose everything they had worked for. Baelish hated seeing Sansa in such pain and self-loathing but it was an unfortunate side effect to the trauma she had suffered. It had been three years since the incident in the Godswood but seeing him for the first time made it feel as though it just occurred. The emotions that were coursing through her were temporary but it didn’t make them any less real.

Sansa put her head under the water again, hoping that when she came back to the surface, the feel of him would be gone. Baelish stood and grabbed some rose scented shampoo and walked over to his wife. He poured some of the shampoo into the palms of his hand and rubbed them together. He walked behind his wife and began to massage the shampoo into her hair. She moaned at the contact and he dug his nails into her scalp. Once her hair was thoroughly lathered, she dunked her head under the water again and Baelish helped her rinse her hair. 

Living in Winterfell, bathing and washing hair was a luxury that was reserved for special occasion or at least once a month. Yet, she knew that her husband would allow her such privileges as often as she wanted. After the day she had with the court, she knew that a bath was warranted and her husband didn’t even utter a single word. He just stripped his clothes down to the bare minimum and sat beside her if she needed anything. She was certain that there were far more productive things he could be doing but he pushed all of his responsibilities to the side in order to comfort her.

“Sansa!” Ned’s voice sounded from the main room of their suits. Baelish and Sansa both jumped when they heard their suit door bang open. They could hear the wood slam again the stone wall and heavy boots could be heard making their way toward the bathing chamber. Ned stood in the doorway looking at the two of them. Baelish brought his hands to the water and washed them while he glared at Ned. “Can I speak with you Sansa?”

“I think now is not the best time, Eddard. My wife is rather upset at the moment.” Baelish’s voice was cold and harsh. Sansa looked between the two of them and she noticed that both Robb and Arya were behind their father. Robb was attempting to pull Ned back and Arya was sending Sansa sympathetic looks. Sansa reached out of the water and grabbed her husband’s hand.

“It’s alright Petyr. I will speak with him.” She shifted slightly, still allowing the water to cover her completely. She looked toward Ned and smiled. “Give me a moment and I will be out. Petyr will you show them to the main room?” Baelish nodded and motioned for his father-in-law to leave the bathing chamber. He looked at his wife and she gave him a nod, indicating that he should follow her father. Arya lingered behind and grabbed a towel from the table that was pressed up against the stone wall. She walked over to the tub and helped Sansa out of the water.

“Robb and I tried to calm him down but he is furious. I’m sorry but he heard the rumors.” Arya handed her the towel and Sansa began to dry herself. She pointed toward a silk blue rob that hung on a hook on the wall. Arya grabbed the robe and handed it to her. Sansa dropped the towel and tied the robe around her.

“What exactly has he heard?”

“That you let Joffery bed you while he visited Winterfell.” Sansa sighed. She knew that Lord Varys had spoken to him in regards to her reputation but she didn’t know the exact rumor that he told him. She supposed that it was best that he heard this rumor because it prevented him from allowing his temper to overthrow his common sense. If he heard the rumor that Joffery forced himself upon her, she was certain that Stannis would not be the only one being executed the following day.

Sansa nodded and closed her eyes. She inhaled deeply, attempting to gather the courage to go and handle her father’s irate temper. She walked barefoot with her hair dripping wet into the main room. Baelish was seated at the table with his eyes trailing Ned, who was pacing back and forth. Robb was standing near the wall and looked at Sansa when she came into the room. The look in his eyes were a mix of disbelief and disappointment.

“Father.” Sansa stated in a small voice, as though she was attempting to calm a caged animal. Ned turned and she could see the furious look in his eyes. Baelish stood and stepped closer toward Sansa. He stayed a few paces away but close enough to intervene if his services would be need.

“Everyone out.”

“I would much rather they stay.” Sansa replied and Ned huffed. They looked at each other and their gazed never moved from each other. Eventually one of them would break and Sansa knew that her father had an iron will. “I take it that your conversation with Lord Varys pertained to me and my relationship with the King.” Her voice was steady and she attempted to keep her eyes on her father but she could tell that he was enraged, but he didn’t say a word. “You asked me once if Petyr ruined me. I answered you honestly, he didn’t. That honor belonged to Joffery.” That caused Ned to snap and he roughly pushed the glass contents of the small side table onto the floor, causing them to shatter. Robb placed his hand on their father’s chest and pulled him back. Robb looked at Sansa and the only description should could give the look was one of shame.

“That vase was expensive.” Baelish replied in a dry and bored tone. Ned whipped around and glared at his son-in-law. The complete lack of surprise on his face at Sansa’s admission made him even more furious. Ned huffed in contempt.

“I take it you were aware of their little tryst?” Ned spat. “Tell me Lord Baelish, did you bed my daughter before you married her as well? Is that what drew you to her?” Baelish gave him a cocky smile, which answered Ned’s answer. However, Baelish would never voice the truth out load.

“What happens between myself and my wife will remain between the two of us.” His voice was calm and many would believe that his tone was nonchalant, however, Sansa could hear the deadly seriousness in it. It was as though he was tempting Ned to divulge further into their marital bed because the Lord of Winterfell would not enjoy the outcome. Ned pursed his lips and turned back to his daughter. He looked completely ashamed of her and she knew that she wouldn't allow him to feel that way about her.

“We raised you better than this. What could you have possibly been thinking to allow yourself to fall into bed and give you maidenhead to a man whom you were not married to?” Ned asked and the anger was slowly falling away from his voice. He just looked lost and disappointed in his daughter for the very first time in his life. The look he gave her the night she begged him to allow her to marry Baelish didn’t rival the disappointment he had now.

“Let me make one thing crystal clear. I never fell into bed with him. In fact I never allowed him to do anything. Every moment he touched me I wanted it to stop, yet when you’re held down and have nowhere to run to, that’s become impossible. The feel of him was painful and I hated every minute of it.” It was as though the room froze. Arya moved forward and slipped her hand into Sansa’s. Robb’s arms dropped to his side and his eyes were wide. He sunk into the chair that was located behind him. The shame was replaced by complete glass shattering heartbreak as the reality set in. Baelish didn’t move but his eyes never left Sansa, watching to see how she was handling her emotions. While he was concerned for her, he wanted her to face as much of this as she could.

Ned was completely frozen, not even allowing air to enter his lungs. His eyes began to water and a few tears slid down his cheek. He stepped forward slowly and placed a hand on her cheek. He held it there for a moment and pulled her toward him. He kissed her forehead and just let the tears fall into her red hair.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Ned asked and his voice was hoarse. Sansa had only heard that tone in his voice once before. When Bran had died, Ned couldn’t speak. The loss of his child broke something inside of him and Sansa knew he was feeling such heartbreak again. It was the voice of complete desperation. “You could have come to me.”

“And what would you have done?” Sansa asked. She pushed away from him, anger completely taking her over. “Gone after Joffery? Forced me to marry him? What? Any outcome of me coming to you would have ended in catastrophe. Either you would have killed him and ended up being executed for killing the prince OR King Robert would have forced me to marry him and I would have ended up that monster’s bride.” Ned just looked at her with such a hopeless expression. He didn’t have the answers and he so desperately wanted to. “Both options were the last things I could ever want.”

“We could have stopped it.” Robb voiced from the chair and Sansa huffed. She gave a pitiful laughed and shook her head. She loved her brother but sometimes he spoke before thinking everything through. She was willing to understand that he was completely shocked but even he should have realized that there was nothing he could have done.

“How? How exactly would you have stopped the prince from taking exactly what he wanted? Tell me. I would love to know.” Sansa’s voice was ice and the look she threw her brother was the coldest he ever received from her. He looked away and shook his head.

“I don’t know.” He sounded completely broken. “I just don’t know.”

“When? Where?” Ned asked. He didn’t want to know. He wished he could go back to being in the dark. He wished Lord Varys never introduced himself. He wished he never allowed himself to be pulled aside. He wished that he never welcomed the King and the Lannisters into his home. He wished he could take it all back. If he could then perhaps Sansa would remain untouched and Bran would still be alive. “I need to know.”

“During their last visit, the night of feast.” Sansa looked down at her hands. She didn’t want to reveal the next part. She knew that while it was hard for him to accept everything she just told him but the next part would completely shatter him. Faith relating to the Old Gods was a major part of who Ned was and to learn that they stood by and did nothing while his daughter was violated would cause a major revelation for him. “It was in the Godswood…under the Weirwood.” She could see it in his eyes, the pain, the grief and the realization.

“That night. The Wildlings...” His eyes snapped to Arya, realizing that both of his daughter's had lied to him. Arya had been the one who told him of her attack. She led them to the woods. She said that Wildlings had attacked her and he never questioned it further. He trusted his daughters and he never would have thought that they would have lied to him about something so serious. “No. No! I don't believe you. I asked Maester Luwin if you had been violated that night and he said no.” 

“He lied.” The words got stuck in her throat. She knew that Luwin kept her secret. She knew that he was no fool and knew what a girl looked like when a man forced himself upon her. They never spoke of it but to hear the older man's devotion touched her. She could only hope that when she was in his presence again, that she would be able to thank him properly. “He lied to protect me.” 

“No. He wouldn't. I asked him directly. I looked him in the eye and he vowed that you were still pure. He wouldn't lie. Not to me. No.” Ned stuttered and began to pace. He ran his finger's through his hair and he would grip the roots as though he wanted to pull his curls from the head. He was breathing heavy and Robb stood, hoping to calm his father down. Ned was in complete disbelief. “No. You're lying. This...no. It couldn't have happened. Not there. Not to you.” 

“Don't you dare accuse me of that.” Sansa hissed through her teeth. “I didn't ask for this. I didn't ask to be led out into the Godswood. I didn't ask to be cornered at the Weirwood. I didn't ask to be hit across the face. I didn't ask for Meryn Trant's hands to wrap around my neck, squeezing so hard that I couldn't breathe.” Her voice began to shake and her eyes welled up with tears. “I didn't ask to have my hands pinned above my head so that I couldn't move. I didn't ask for my dress to be torn. I didn't ask for my legs to forcefully pulled apart. I didn't ask for Joffery to rape me.”

Sansa froze. Ice welled up inside of her and she felt all of her control to shatter into a thousands shards, causing her insides to bleed. Her body began to shake and her breath to inhale sharply. One hand went to her hair while the other clutched at her chest. Her vision went blurry and her knees gave out. She felt a pair of strong arms catch her but she couldn't be certain of who they belonged to. She could hear something wheeze and wail but was unaware of where the sound was coming from. It took a moment for her to realize that she was the one making such a noise. 

Rape. Sansa never allowed herself to utter or think the word. It was the one thing she never allowed herself to really acknowledge. While she logically knew what had happened to her she never really accepted it. She buried it so far down inside of herself and let if fester. The word grew angry inside of her and ate away at her. For the first time since it happened, she was finally accepting that it happened and it was a pain that she had felt before. Part of her would rather relive Bran's death and never feel the way she felt in that moment again.

Sansa had been raped and it took three years to finally come to terms with it. 

She cried. She allowed all the pain and grief she held within her for the last three years to tumble out of her. She allowed the tears to continue to fall until her voice became hoarse. She was unsure of how long she was there but it felt like years before she was able to become aware of her surroundings. Once her tears would no longer fall, she inhaled the scent of mint. Baelish's arms were around her and his face buried into her hair. He was whispering to her but she couldn't make out what he was saying.

Sansa looked down and realized one of her hands was linked her father's. Ned was sitting on the wooden floor just holding her hand. His face was fractured in grief. He didn't blink and couldn't remove his eyes from her. Ned watched his daughter completely break down and lose control; it was the one of the most agonizing moments of his life. Ned held his sister in his arms as she took her last breath; Ned carried his son's broken body to his death bed; Ned held his daughter's hand as she accepted that she had been raped. Each moment changed him and each moment would forever be engrained into his soul.

Arya was standing over them with tears running down her face. She was completely silent and her face would have appeared impassive if it was not for her tears. Robb pulled Arya close and just allowed him. Robb watched his sister and she had never seen him so hopeless. She knew that he wanted to fix her but there was no way that she could fixed. Baelish did his best to patch her up and make her whole but there would always be a crack in her. She would never be the same and her family was finally beginning to realize that.

“I'm going to kill him.” Ned's voice sounded hard and furious. She had never seen her father that hostile, even when she walked into her father's solar and saw him choking Baelish. He pushed himself off the floor and headed toward the door. He was blinded by fury and the entire room knew that if he was allowed to leave, Joffery would be dead by morning. Sansa looked at her husband in panic and Baelish left her side and rushed after Ned.

Before Ned was able to open the wooden door, Baelish pushed it shut. He stood in front of it, refusing the Lord of Winterfell to pass by. Ned glared at his son-in-law and threatened him within an inch of his life if he did not move away from the door. However, Baelish did not budge and he stood his ground, glaring at the taller man.

“If you walk out this door and go after Joffery, do you honestly think that you will succeed? He is guarded at all times and even an attempt on his life will have your head on a spike by morning. What will that serve? Your children will see you murdered. A man is being executed tomorrow for attempting to overthrow the King, what do you think will happen to the man who attempts to kill him?” Baelish's words echoed through Ned and he could see him thinking them through. 

“He needs to pay for what he has done.” His voice was hallow and broken. Sansa could tell that he was on the verge of completely losing control. His shoulder's were shaking and his breathing harsh. Sansa pulled herself from the ground and walked toward her father. She placed her hand on his arm and squeezed.  
“And he will.” They all turned toward her. Her face had turned to stone. Her voice was cold and impassive. The overwhelming sorrow was being replaced by fury. She was angry and she allowed the darkness to fully take over her. The blackness that she was terrified of falling into fully consumed her. Her mind calculated and set her course toward what exactly she wanted. “He will feel the fear that he caused me. He will choke on his own vomit and I will watch the life leave his eyes. I will watch him bleed because I will allow Westeros to burn before I allow him to outlive me.”

Baelish stepped away from the door and walked toward her. He wrapped his arms around her middle and kissed the top of her head. Arya smiled at her, proud at her sister's choice of words. Minus Baelish, Arya was the only one who understood her bloodlust for vengeance. If Sansa wanted nothing to do with Joffery's demise, then Arya would make sure he paid with his life. Robb stepped back slightly and it was as though he was seeing his sister for the first time. 

Ned just looked at her, with his heart still broken. The women who stood in front of him was not the daughter he raised. That girl died three years ago and Ned was completely unaware to mourn her. He missed the moment when her entire world changed and he wished he could have been there. He wished he could have held her close and protected her from harm. Yet he couldn't. One of the worst nightmares that could happen to a father had become a reality and he would be forced to stand at the sidelines and allow his daughter to turn into someone he never wanted her to become. 

“I bowed to him. I pledge my loyalty to the man who raped my daughter.” Ned stated and his shoulder's slumped, feeling sick. He walked toward the couch and sat down. He placed his face into his hands. Sansa walked over to him and got on her knees in front of him. She took his hand's into her and kissed them. He looked up and into her eyes.

“So did I.” 

“How can Robert's son be so cruel?”

“Because-” The words started to form but Sansa stopped herself. Her father already knew far to much. She wanted to tell him the truth but just like she had done with Arya, she held herself back. Telling Ned who Joffery's real father was would only cause him more pain and anger. He would do everything he could in order to see Joffery dethroned and it would cost them their lives. If he believed that Joffery was the rightful heir, Ned would hate him but he would believe that there was nothing he could do. He would feel hopeless but he would be alive. “Because he is also Cersei's.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there are two things I want to discuss about this chapter:
> 
> Number One: During the first 34 chapters I avoided using the word "rape". I hinted at it heavily but never directly used that word. Others have used it in comments but even then I avoided using it because I wanted the first time that "rape" is uttered to be the first time Sansa really accepts what happened to her. She finally is allowing herself to grieve for that part of her......and as hard as this is for her, it will make her stronger.
> 
> Number Two: I almost didn't post this story because of this chapter.....well kind of. I knew that this chapter was coming since the beginning and I knew it might be hard for some people to read. Actually I figured this entire story might be difficult for some. After Sansa's storyline in Season 5 and the reaction to her wedding night with Ramsey, I almost pulled my outline. I even considered changing it but no matter what other back story I ran with, it wasn't the same. 
> 
> I know people hate the "rape" storyline but it happens. Its horrible and cruel and should never happen to anyone....ever, but it does and if it was taken out of everything completely, then what good would that do?
> 
> Anyway, what do you think?


	35. Chapter 35

Sansa awoke with a few kisses being placed on her nose. It felt like a light tickle against her skin. Her eyes fluttered open and she saw her husband's grey-green eyes peering down at her. She smiled widely and leaned up to kiss him on the lips. Their tongues toyed with each other for a moment before he broke away. He pulled her naked body toward his and within a few moments she could feel herself drifting off again; the sound of his heartbeat luring her to sleep.

He had worshiped her the night before, after her family left their suit. All of her emotions played out while he licked and nipped at her. Baelish was slow, showing her his devotion to her. She needed him after the events of the day. While it was slow and gentle, neither lasted long in each other arms. The exhaustion from the presentation, Joffery and her confession to her father left them all reeling. She needed feel something positive and familiar in order to wash away the feelings of bloodlust and misery.

She had cried during his attentions but it wasn't out of pain or sadness. The tears were driven from feeling something so powerful and so wonderful. Baelish took away what he could and replaced it with himself. While memories would always linger, and there would be moments when lost herself to them, Baelish would always be there to bring comfort and pleasure back to her darkness.

“Sweetling, I have to leave and I want to kiss you goodbye.” Baelish whispered, causing Sansa to whimper. She pulled him closer against her, locking her fingers together and refused to allow him to slide out of bed. Baelish chuckled at her antics. “I really do have to rise. You are more than welcome to doze for a while longer if you so choose but I don't want you to wake up alone after our first night here.”

Sansa groaned and released him. She laid on her back and Baelish propped himself up on his arm. He leaned down and took Sansa's lips into his. He placed his hand on her jaw and kissed her harder. Sansa wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer. She arched against him and she spread her legs. Baelish slid into her easily. He trusted against her slowly and deliberately. His hand ran down her stomach and toward her center. His finger circled her nub and it wasn't long before the two of them fell over the edge.

Baelish pulled out of her and rolled on his back. He caught his breath for a moment and slowly slid out of the bed. Sansa curled the sheet around her naked body and watched her husband move around the room. He was completely naked and Sansa couldn't help but admire his form. He went to a basin that they kept in their sleeping chamber for situations such as this. Baelish quickly cleaned himself before moving toward the wardrobe. He pulled out a set dark robes and dressed. He slipped his boots on and then pulled out a long purple scarf that he fastened around him. He placed his mockingbird pin on his shoulder in order for it keep hold on his shoulder. He turned back to the bed and walked over to his wife. He sat on the side and leaned down to kiss her. This kiss was light and playful.

“Why are you leaving me so early?” Sansa pouted and Baelish laughed. She reached up and traced the mockingbird on his shoulder. That pin had become such a fascination to her, more so since he gave her a pendant version of it. “Wouldn't staying in bed with your young naked wife seem so much more pleasant?”

“Oh Sweetling. I would much rather stay here and fuck you till you can no longer walk but unfortunately I have whores that need to be kept in line.” He leaned down and kissed her again. When he pulled away, Sansa's bottom lip pulled out into a pout. He bit her lip playfully. “Relax. Enjoy your morning and I will see you before your lunch with the Queen of Thrones and Lady Margaery.” He looked at her seriously, concern playing in his eyes. “Are you alright? After last night, how are you, really?”

“I'm okay. Not perfect but I will be okay.” He accepted that answer but didn't move away. “Will you be back in time to see Stannis's execution?” Baelish nodded and Sansa sat up in bed. The sheet slid down around her waist. Baelish couldn't help but allow his eyes to linger over her. “Can I come with you? To your whorehouse? I want to learn what it would be like to run one, with you.” She bit her lip as she looked coyly at him.

“I will teach you anything you want to learn, but not today. Today will be busy enough.” He kissed her again before leaving her. He looked out the window and smiled. “You have some time before you need to make yourself presentable. If you decide to leave the suits, please take Lady with you.” When she agreed Baelish gave her that famous leer that she adored. He kissed her one last time before heading out the door.

Sansa laid in her bed for a time, sleeping for an hour until she heard the door to their suits open. She sat up when she saw Shae enter. Shae was staring at the floor where the glass shards of the vase her father had broken still laid on the ground. The woman looked worried but Sansa told her to leave it. She nodded and followed Sansa back into her chambers but couldn't help but too looked over her shoulder at the glass.

She asked her handmaiden to pull out her purple and gold dress from the wardrobe. The dress was purple that hung on her shoulders with a long cleavage and a golden flare undertone. Her shoulders would be covered in the dress the sleeve stopped where her arm began Sansa slid from the bed and dressed lazily. She pulled a gold belt from the small wardrobe along with a golden chain.

The two ladies walked toward the bathing chamber and Sansa sat in front of the vanity. Her hair was to be simple; nothing more than a few strands of her hair forming a half braid in the back of her head while the rest of her hair hung loose around her waist. Sansa looked at herself as Shae worked on her. She was searching for some difference in her and found nothing. She felt different, freer than she had been the night before. The pain and darkness still lingered but it was enough to make a difference. She stood and fastened the belt around her waist while the gold chain danged low into the cleavage. The mockingbird pin was placed onto the chain and shown beautifully against her white skin. Shae brought her a simple pair of golden tinted sandals that slipped onto her feet.

Sansa left the suits and wandered the castle. She was headed nowhere in particular but wanted to learn the layout of the castle. Stannis’s execution was approaching and she knew she didn’t have a significant amount of time. She allowed herself to lounge in her suits far longer than she had originally wanted. However, after the night before, the rest was needed.

“Little dove.” The familiar musical voice sounded from a very short distance. Sansa turned and saw the Queen Mother strolling towards her with her guards in place. She was in her signature blood red with her golden locks piled onto of her head. Sansa curtsied, as was custom and smiled at Cersei. Cersei placed her hand on a few strands of Sansa's hair and gave her a gorgeous grin. “Three years and you've turned into a great beauty. Come; stroll with me.” Sansa nodded and looped her arm through the Queen's. The two began to wander toward the courtyard where the execution would be held. Their pace was leisurely and Lady padded alongside them.

“It is wonderful to see you again, Your Grace.” Sansa replied perfectly. Cersei chuckled and Sansa knew that she was attempting to play the naive child she had been the last time they had met. Cersei had never disliked her but she never thought she was very intelligent either. Sansa knew that it was important for her to continue to see her in such a light. If she was not a threat to the Queen, Cersei would underestimate her.

“Yes, it is, especially when we parted it was on less than pleasant terms.” Cersei stated and Sansa forced her face to remain passive. The last conversation the Queen had with her, Sansa was lying broken in her bed after her son assaulted her. “And here you are now; a married women fully grown. It's a pity your husband isn't as pleasing as you. You deserved so much more.” The words dug into Sansa and it took everything she had to hold back her tongue. She wanted to tell the Queen that she would always choose Baelish over her son; but knew she couldn't.

“He would have not been my first choice of course, but Petyr has been nothing but kind to me.” Sansa looked down at her hands and blushed. “I was hesitant at the idea of marrying him of course but it was best for the North. I was pleasantly surprised that when I got to know him better, he was nothing like I expected. He is no Prince Joffery, I’m sorry… King Joffery of course but he will do just nicely.” She didn’t want Cersei to know that Baelish had been her choice. She wanted to play the dutiful daughter who married the man her parent’s commanded her to. She also didn't want appear unhappy either.

“Well, I’m pleased that you are happy with your husband.” Cersei replied with tight lips. It was obvious that while she thought Baelish was loyal to the throne, the idea of anyone wanting him as a husband completely baffled her. She never would have expected Sansa to willingly be involved with such a man unless her parents forced her hand in the marriage. Cersei smirked, Baelish must have played this girl well. Cersei had always known that Sansa was a fool, she found it part of the younger girl’s charm. “I had hoped that one day you would have been my daughter in law.”

Cersei had been very disappointed when Ned had insisted on breaking the engagement between Sansa and Joffery. While it wasn’t that she was extremely fond of the younger girl, the version of Sansa she knew would have been easy to control. Joffery would have grown bored of the girl but Sansa still would have been his queen. A broken queen is easily controlled and Cersei would still be able to hold her position of power through Sansa.

“I wasn’t deserving of him.” The words were like bile in her mouth. It was a hard lie to allow to slip through her lips. The mere thought of Joffery being better than her was a nauseating sensation. It was a bitter thought that he was high above her in station and practically untouchable. “He has someone now who will make a far better queen than I ever could. I’m sure you very fond of Lady Margaery. The two of you seem so similar that I am certain you have become fast friends...” Sansa smiled widely Cersei and couldn’t help but notice how she flinched when Margaery’s name was mentioned. Sansa found that highly interesting at Cersei’s complete dislike of her name.

“Yes. We are very close.” Lie. It was obvious that the Queen hated Joffery’s betrothed. Sansa’s mind started to turn and knew that perhaps this dislike would be useful. If she could create a rift between mother and son, pushing Joffery farther into Margaery’s arms and into her control, the less power the Lannisters would have in regards to the throne.

“My lovely sister, may I have a word?” A deep voice sounded from behind Cersei and Sansa startled slightly. Cersei moved and revealed her younger brother, the dwarf walking toward them. It would have been no surprise that Sansa would have missed him, for he was a very tiny man. Cersei scowled at him, something her brother found in amusement. “Ah the new Lady Baelish. I must say that you are far lovelier than your predecessor.” This caused Sansa to giggle. The stories she heard of Lysa would cause no one to say that she was lovely. Tyrion took her hand and kissed the back of it. “I've heard that you and your husband will be in need of a new vase.” Beyond those in the suit last night, Shae was the only person who has seen the broken glass. Shae would be the only one she knew who would have reported it. Tyrion was unexpected but not the worst Lannister by far. Shae’s connection to Tyrion could prove to be useful in the long run.

“What do you want Tyrion?” Cersei hissed at him. Tyrion smiled at her and Sansa realized that Cersei’s hatred of her dwarf brother caused him amusement. She looked between the two of them, making note of the sibling rivalry. She had never really seen them interact, even when they both were at Winterfell. Sansa wondered if there was anyone’s company that Cersei enjoyed beyond the family members she bedded and her children. Sansa knew that the Queen had a ghastly soul but Baelish’s words about the Queen rang loudly in her ears. Cersei was beautiful but on the outside only.

“A moment alone would be nice.” Tyrion smiled at Sansa and it was obvious that she was dismissed. She felt a rush of relief pass through her. The last thing she wanted was to be in Cersei’s presence so any excuse she had not to speak with her, she would take it. Sansa smiled and nodded toward the smaller man.

“Of course.” Sansa curtsied again. “You’re Grace. Come Lady.” Sansa moved away and the direwolf followed. She could feel the sibling’s eyes trailing her as she left. She turned a corner and made her way down a set of stone steps. She slowly made her way toward the courtyard and noticed that it was filled with a massive amounts of people. She searched the crowed and saw her husband speaking with her father on a balcony that overlooked the crowd. People parted the way easily and Sansa climbed the wooden steps to the balcony.

Baelish and Ned seemed to be in a serious discussion and Sansa was certain that she was the topic of conversation. Ned’s eyes furred and he bit his lip. He gave her a small smile when he saw her approach. Baelish turned and he held out his hand. He gave her cocky smirk and she placed her hand in his. Ned stepped forward and kissed her on the forehead. He didn’t say anything but he wanted to show her that the news he learned the night before didn’t affect the way he viewed her. She was still his daughter and Sansa knew that he spent the entire night processing that information. He exchanged a few more words with Baelish and left the balcony. Sansa leaned against the railing and Baelish placed his hands on either side of her.

“And what were the two of you discussing?”

“You.” Baelish chuckled. He placed a kiss on her cheek. She smiled at the affection. “You’re father wanted to make sure that you were well this morning. I told him that you were in high spirits. Of course I didn’t inform him how high your spirits were.” He whispered and it caused her to shiver. She gave him a naughty smirk and he chuckled. “He seems frustrated that there is nothing he can do about Joffery. I find that it would be best if he remained in the dark about his little secret.” Sansa nodded in agreement. “And how was your morning, after I left you of course?” Baelish smirked.

“Oh, it was dreadfully dull. Slept awhile longer, explored the castle, took a stroll with the Queen. Nothing interesting.” Sansa teased. Baelish raised an eyebrow and smirked. He knew they couldn’t speak of it here, too many prying eyes were around. He leaned in and Sansa could feel his warm breathe against her skin. She turned her head and his face was inches from her’s. It would be so easy to lean forward and capture his lips but she didn’t.

“Sound awful.” He chuckled. “When we are alone you will have to tell me all about your conversation with the Queen I’m sure it was very illuminating.” He pulled away then and Sansa laughed at him. She turned away then and eyed the crowd. She could see several people she recognized and many that she did not. Within the crowd she saw her brother Robb speaking with Jory. She saw him look up and his eyes trail toward his side. There stood the young women who had been behind Tywin when Sansa and Baelish were presented. Her mother was with her and nearly stopped the girl from stepping forward.

The woman moved forward and introduced herself to Robb. Sansa could see her brother give her an overly friendly smile, one he never gave Roslin. He picked up her hand and kissed the back of it gently. The woman’s mother moved forward and began to steer her daughter away from Robb. The woman looked over her shoulder at him and Robb watched as she was dragged away.

“Petyr, who is that woman? The one in the yellow dress being pulled toward the gates?” Sansa asked and it took Baelish no time to know who she was asking about. It appeared that he witnessed the same small moment of affection that she did. It would be dangerous for Robb to break his engagement when his wedding was now less than a week away. While she knew that her brother need not always be faithful to Roslin, it would be unwise to take someone who is influential at court as his mistress; worse if that woman had ties to the Lannisters.

“Jeyne Westerling, the daughter of Lord Tywin’s mistress Sybell.” Baelish stated and it explained why they were standing alongside Tywin during the presentation. This Jeyne Westerling may be harmless but her mother certainly was not. It was clear that Robb was infatuated with Jeyne and Sansa wondered if her brother would think with his head or the appendage down below. “I fear that your brother may have developed an attraction to young Jeyne.”

“Would the Freys take offense if Robb stepped outside of his vows?” Sansa asked. Baelish huffed in dry amusement. His eyes were trained on her brother. Robb was still gazing after Jeyne who had been removed from him. It was clear that Sybell wanted her daughter as far away from the Starks as possible. Sansa could only assume that it was because Jeyne had to marry someone of status; what other reason would she have for being at court?

“Robb could fuck a hundred women, but as long as he married Roslin, Stevron could care less. It’s not the Freys we would have to worry about.” Her husband’s meaning was clear. The Westerlings were in bed, literally, with the Lannisters. Whatever their alliance was, it could be dangerous for them if Robb decided that he wanted Jeyne instead of Roslin. However, Sansa’s thoughts were pulled from her brother and toward the gates opening in the courtyard.

Soon the trumpets sounded and the King entered the crowed with several of his guard trailing behind him. His mother along with his grandfather were also in attendance. The entire crowed bowed to the King as he passed. There was a platform that stood on the far end of the courtyard and Joffery climbed the stairs to stand above the rest. Even from a distance, Sansa could see Joffery’s cold smirk spread across his lips. He enjoyed the power and knew that with time, his cruelty would only grow worse.

“My ladies and gentleman, it’s a sad day today. We are gathered to witness a traitor in our midst. It pains me to admit that my own blood wishes to defy me. He spews vile lies and wishes to steal the throne from me, your rightful King.” Joffery spoke loud and clear. The crowd’s eyes were trained on him, never wavering. Sansa knew that he enjoyed the perks of being King and made a habit of grandstanding. “Bring me the traitor.”

The gates opened again several Gold Cloaks dragged a man who was bound in chains. Stannis Baratheon was dirty, beaten and Sansa could tell, underfeed. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he had been tortured; even less if Joffery had done it himself. She didn’t know the man but seeing anyone in such a state would be a reason to doubt Joffery as a King. Yet, the crowd hissed at him, not knowing that Stannis was indeed the true heir to the throne. The guards dragged him toward Joffery and pushed him on his knees. Sansa knew that even if he tried, he would not be able to stand on his feet. She looked toward her husband and saw no regret on his features. They were stone and cold. Baelish had done what needed to be done. Stannis would have overthrown Joffery and if Stannis sat on the throne everything they have worked for would have ended.

Joffery began speaking again but Sansa tuned him out. A movement across the heads of the massive crowd caught her eye. There was another balcony located directly in front of them. Several people stood there watching the King give his speech. Sansa’s eyes fixated on one person in particular. Jaqen H’ghar stood with his hands pressed against the wooden railing. His white and red hair hung around his shoulders. She noticed that her sister weaved herself between two men and stood beside H’ghar, yet neither of them said a word.

“This man is my uncle. My father’s brother; a man who wished he could call himself king. Yet he is on his knees in front of the rightful King, as nothing more than a traitor.” The crowd cheered and a few people threw food and other things at Stannis. Stannis didn’t even flinch when he was hit. Joffery smiled at the man’s broken spirit. “My mother wishes me to let Lord Stannis join the Night’s Watch. Stripped of all titles and powers, he would serve the realm in permanent exile. But she has the soft heart of a woman. So long as I am your king, treason shall never go unpunished. Sir Ilyn, bring me his head!” The executioner strolled across the platform and pulled a sword from a tan cloth. The crowd grew louder and louder; cheering for the traitor’s head. Stannis looked up at the crowd and it appeared that he closed his eyes. His lips moved and while Sansa didn’t know what he was saying, she could tell that he was praying. Who he was praying to would forever remain unclear but watching a man accept his enviable death moved her. She knew her husband had blood on his hands but this would be the first time she witnessed someone lose their life because of his actions. Sansa reached for Baelish and he wrapped his arms around her; she found comfort in his arms.

Sansa’s eyes were drawn to her sister again. Arya looked at her and gave a small smile. She stood on her tip toes and whispered something in H’ghar’s ear. The man didn’t even react. Arya pulled away and Sansa saw her sister disappear behind several people. Sir Ilyn raised the sword high in the sky that it reflected off of the sun. He swung it forward and Stannis Baratheon was dead. His head rolled on the ground as his headless body was thrown to the side as though he was nothing of importance. Sir Ilyn picked the head up and rammed it onto a spike. The crowd cheered again. Stannis Baratheon was dead but Sansa knew that he was not the only one who was condemned to die that day.

A warrant had been issued.

A death was to be repaid.

One unknown name had been spoken.

Only two names remained.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was actually surprised that no one commented on Stannis execution as of yet. I thought someone would have said something by now. 
> 
> And I'm curious to see who you all think Arya named.


	36. Chapter 36

The gardens of the Red Keep were beautiful. It was just pathways and pathways that were lined with all different colored flowers and vines. It was the most beautiful sight Sansa had seen in a very long time. The glass gardens of Winterfell were lovely but nothing like this. The glass gardens were used to grow food during the long cold winters and during the summer snows. The North was not a place with fertile ground. Everything was dead and cold for most of the summer season that even attempting to grow something would be foolish. The hot springs under Winterfell made the ground perfect for planting crops, and it would be pointless to even attempt to grow something so beautiful.

Yet the gardens Sansa strolled through were not meant for food; they were meant for pleasure and beauty alone. Part of her wished that life could be like the garden; just lovely and perfect. That the outside was just as it seemed; instead it was more like the thorns that pricked fingers for blood. Perhaps life was just like a garden; a garden full of thorny roses that were hungry for blood.

Lady was in heaven. The direwolf trotted along the stone pathway and loved to sniff at the flowers. She couldn't help but pounce on any bugs that may cross her path. Sansa giggled at the wolf's childish behavior. She wanted so desperately to be like the wolf at that moment, carefree and happy. However, her mind kept replaying Stannis execution in her head. Baelish had caused it, a fact she knew long before Sir Ilyn swung the sword.

Sansa knew that her husband had blood on his hands but this was the first time that she had witnessed it firsthand. Watching a man die was startling and it surprised her how well she was adapting to such a traumatic event. Perhaps the shock in her was just warn out. There was nothing left in the entirety of Westeros to shock her anymore.

She thought on Baelish and realized that the old Sansa, the one who Joffery never touched, would have hated him. She would have called him a murder and a coward. Now, the knowledge that her husband had arranged a man's death made her want to throw him down and impale herself upon him. She never would have thought that murder would be considered foreplay for them. Unfortunately she was unable to have him. Sansa had promised to meet Margaery and her grandmother for lunch, all the while Baelish sat in his solar going over dreadfully dull numbers.

Sansa saw Margaery sitting with an older women under a canopy and around an delicate iron table. Margaery looked as beautiful as ever, with her long brown hair flowing and a blue dress that showed even more skin than Sansa was willing to show. Yet, Sansa's eyes were drawn to her companion. This must have been Lady Olenna Tyrell, the Queen of Thorns. The elder woman wore a cap that completely covered her head and the only skin Sansa could see was the white of her face. Margaery looked up and smiled widely. She stood from her chair and glided toward her.

“Sansa! Welcome. I was hoping you would arrive soon.” Margaery kissed each sides of her face. Sansa smiled at her. Once her family had left their suits and the married couple had their way with each other, Sansa laid in her husband's arms listening to the tales of his time in Highgarden. He spoke of his deceptions and how he convinced the ever proud Mace Tyrell to marry his daughter to the prince. Margaery took Sansa's arm and led her to the canopy. “Lady Baelish, it is an honor to present my grandmother, Lady Olenna of House Tyrell.”

“Well that is a nasty beast isn't it?” Olenna stated not even glancing at Sansa but rather fixed her beady eyes upon Lady. The direwolf was sitting poised as her master, never moving from the spot next to her. “Well you have it well trained I will give you that. Kiss me child.” Olenna reached out her hand and Sansa took it, placing her lips on the back of the wrinkled hand. Once she released her hand Margaery motioned for her to take a seat across from them and she realized that this was not going to be a lunch but rather an interrogation. Sansa couldn't but allow her walls to be firmly in place. The Tyrells may be allies with her husband but that by no means made them trustworthy.

“I want to thank you for inviting me to dine with you. It was very kind of you to offer.” Sansa replied and Margaery smiled at her as she picked up a ripe strawberry from the wooden bowl placed in front of them. Olenna however, continued to watch her, never revealing any type of emotion. “My husband has told me many tales of Highgarden and he speaks very fondly of it and the family who occupies it of course.”

“We highly enjoyed Lord Baelish's visit. He proved very helpful, didn't he grandmother?” Margaery stated and Sansa could tell that the younger Tyrell was more diplomatic than the elder. Olenna was far to curt to deal with such nonsense. “You in particular enjoyed his visit.” Olenna snorted and Sansa could tell that she was less than fond of Baelish but rather respected him instead.

“Enjoy wouldn't be the word I'd use, but I didn't eviscerate him completely. He did, however play a curious game of chess, the only man who has beaten in the last forty years.” It was clear that Olenna found men to be of the lesser sex, something that was highly uncommon. She didn't tolerate fools and most men proved to be a fool. Baelish must have challenged her, something she clearly was not used to and it caused an alliance to be formed. Sansa had originally thought that it was Mace Tyrell that controlled his family but it was obvious that she had been wrong. The way to Highgarden's heart was through Olenna.

“My husband does have a mind that is as quick as it is wicked.” Sansa smirked, allowing her mask to fall slightly. “And the same could be said for his tongue.” Margaery choked slightly on her drink, clearly not expecting such a comment from the other woman, Olenna however just looked at her. A small smile graced her lips and she laughed.

“I had wondered what bribery Littlefinger had to pull in order to marry you.” Sansa almost flinched at the name. She had only ever heard it spoken once before and it was from her husband's lips. While he didn't completely hate the nickname, he wasn't fond of it either. “Now it is apparent that perhaps he had to do nothing at all. He found a woman on his level whose father was foolish enough to allow her to marry him.”

“I wouldn't say my marriage was foolish. I'm rather fond of my husband.” Sansa reached toward the center of the table and picked a lemon cake. Her favorite and she was certain Margaery and Olenna already knew that. “Although it is no secret my father was less than thrilled with the idea. He took some convincing.”

“And how was the honorable Eddard Stark persuaded?” Margaery asked. Sansa looked at her and realized how soft her tone was compared to the sharp invasions of Olenna's. While she was far kinder, Sansa made no mistake that she was just as intelligent. “He does not appear to be a man who is easily bribe, especially when it comes to his daughter's hand in marriage. It is a curious thing that Littlefinger was able to convince him at all.”

“My husband was unable to convince my father of anything, he was far too busy with my father's hand around his neck to really be concerned with a marriage proposal.” This caused Margaery to laugh and Olenna to smirk. Sansa proved to be more than they expected; they expected a weak child who was pawned off by her parents in order to pay a debt, not the calculating woman who sat before them. “I had to be the one to do all the talking.”

“I like her.”

“And that Lady Baelish is a high praise for my grandmother doesn't like anyone, not even my father, her own son.” Margaery stated and Olenna huffed. Sansa raised her eyebrow in question. The Queen of Thorns had to love her own child. If Cersei could love a monster such a Joffery, Olenna could love an imbecile such as her son.

“Do you know my son? The Lord of Highgarden?”

“I haven't had the pleasure.” It was a sinister type of chuckle that Olenna gave. It almost surprised Sansa how much the woman disliked her son. She seemed rather fond of her granddaughter but it might also be because Margaery was far more intelligent than most and her son was not. Sansa wondered what her opinion of her grandson was. How did she view that member of her family who preferred a man’s company over a woman’s?

“No great pleasure, believe me. A ponderous oaf. His father was a ponderous oaf as well. My husband, the late Lord Luthor. He managed to ride off a cliff while hawking. They saw he was looking up at the sky and paying no mind to where his horse was taking him. And now my son is doing the same, only this time he’s riding a lion instead of a horse.”

“Grandmother! What will Sansa think of us?” Margaery stated with a laugh of disbelief. Sansa could tell that she had hoped that her grandmother would have been on her best behavior but it was obvious that the hope was in vain. Olenna didn't understand the term best behavior and she said exactly what was on her mind, no matter the context.

“She might think we have some wits about us. One of us, at any rate.” Olenna replied. She huffed in contempt and frustration. It was as though she felt as though she was the only one who didn't deal with other people's bullshit. It was one of the many reason why she hated King's Landing. Everyone was willing to dance around the subject and play their games, while Olenna was more than willing to be direct and be honest to everyone, even if that honesty is not what they wanted to hear. “Now, tell me the truth about this royal boy, this Joffery.”

Sansa attempted to appear taken aback but she wasn't surprised in the slightest. The woman who is marrying the man Sansa had been terrified of, wanted to understand what her future would be like. Sansa could lie and tell her that she seduced the King into bed one night. She could be honest and tell her everything that had happened and then some. It was a fine line to walk and Sansa honestly wasn't sure which route she wanted to take.

“Me? What could I possibly tell you about the King? Margaery has been in King's Landing for months if I understand correctly. Wouldn't that be enough time to get to know her betrothed? Petyr and I knew each other only little over three months before we were married, and I feel as though I know him better than anyone.” Had it only been that long? Four and a half months since Baelish came to Winterfell? Her life had changed so completely since then; that it felt like a life time ago.

“Yes you. Who else would know better? You were betrothed to him for years before your family broke off the engagement. Margaery had less than half of that to get to know the boy.” And she had done a far better job of taming him than Sansa ever could. “We've heard some troubling tales. Is there any truth to them? Has this boy...mistreated you?”

Sansa looked at the older woman and didn't say a word. Her face was stone cold and passive. She fingered the lemon cake until it crumbled between her fingers. Olenna and Margaery remained quiet, allowing her to think her words through. She could tell them the truth and expose everything that had happened, but would that be wise? It could possibly put her and Baelish in jeopardy if the wrong person overheard them. She could lie, saying that Joffery the kindest man she had ever known. He had been kind to her when they first were betrothed, treating her as though she was already his queen, but over time his mask slipped and the cruel boy she knew now slipped through. How would that affect them once Olenna realized she had lied?

“I'm to be his wife, I only want to know what that means.” Eventually Joffery would grow tired of Margaery and she would be forced to endure his sadistic cruelty. Sansa looked over at Margaery and realized she was more than willing to sacrifice her in order to protect herself and her husband. She would gladly watch Margaery and the rest of the Tyrells burn if it kept her family from harm.

“King Joffery is kind, gentle and strong.” Sansa stated. It was the motto she recited over and over to herself when Joffery first started to torment her during his time at Winterfell. It wasn't obvious at first, a mean word here or there but over time he would harm her. She had started to hid it from her family but it was the middle of winter and the bruises were easy to hide. She would justify his actions at first, repeating those words over and over again, until he raped her. It was like a cord snapped inside of her and she broke down completely. She grew to hate him and once she learned of the Lannisters role in Bran's death, the hate grew deeper.

“Yes yes yes, and he fights bravely, feeds the poor and reads to orphans.” Olenna stated and huffed. It was clear that she didn't believe a single word she said. Sansa just looked at the woman, willing herself not to break. The pain she had felt the night before slowly began to creep back into her. She tried to push it down but it was swelling hard and fast inside of her. “But what is he really like? Speak freely, we would never betray your confidence. I swear it.”

“Does he give you gifts? Little trinkets? Here and there?”

“Yes.”

“That is how it starts. He will shower you in gifts, compliments and anything you could possibly want. Then one day you will say something, small and insignificant and he will insult you for it. But it won't be direct no, it will be subtle. You won't even realize it happened. The insults will be more obvious but you will believe him. He will grab you the wrong way once, leave a bruise. He will apologize and the gifts will start again.” She laughed lightly. She had been such a fool; a little naive fool. Tears began to well in her eyes and they fell silently down her cheeks. “It won't last. It never lasts and each time it gets worse until he takes everything from you. It hurt and I thought...he just left me there to die. He's a monster.”

“Oh. Well, that's a pity.” Olenna stated and Margaery nodded. They seemed disappointed but unsurprised. Sansa reached toward the center of the table and picked at the fruit that laid there. She popped one into her mouth and chewed. She was trying to force the emotion back into their steel box that she had crafted for them. Margaery reached out and took her hand into her's. She smiled at her and she could see the kindness in her; her soft heart. She could only hope that Joffery didn't ruin that about her.

“I'm so sorry. You must have been very brave to live through that.” Sansa smiled at her and could see why it was so easy for her to win the public's opinion. They all loved her and adored her; Margaery was Joffery's only redeeming quality. Perhaps Margaery would be his downfall. With a King like him and Queen like her, only one would survive that marriage. Sansa could only hope that she was around to see it.

“Don't stop the wedding.” Sansa stated in a hoarse voice. She cleared her throat after a moment, grabbing her goblet. The liquid cleaned her aching throat and she placed it back down on the table. “My husband...we would be very disappointed if Margaery wasn't on that throne. You know what happens to people who disappoint him.” Sansa looked directly at Olenna, as though she was tempting her to break this engagement. If she did, both of them knew what happens to those who Baelish deemed a bad investment.

“Have no fear. The Lord Oaf of Highgarden is determined to have Margaery be queen. Even so, we thank you for the truth.” Olenna stated in a calm voice. She brushed off Sansa's warning as an afterthought. “We have no intention of breaking the engagement so you and Littlefinger can rest easy. You will have your queen and the Lannisters will be dethroned.”

“I vow that as long as I am Queen, he will never touch you.” Margaery stated. While she put on a brave face, Sansa could see that she was concerned. Joffery had only been kind to her but she could see the cruel side to him. He never hurt her but his temper got the best of him. He had beaten servants in front of her and tortured animals. Margaery pretended that she enjoyed it and that she was like him. The better actress she became the more control she had over him. “I want us to be friends and if I want you happy, then happy you shall be.”

“Don't make promises you can't keep.” Sansa laughed. “I'm like a toy to Joffery. He will always enjoy making me suffer and even you can't change that. No matter how good of friends we become.” She paused and took a deep breath. She placed her mask perfectly in place. “Although I have to admit that you have done wonders on him. He worships the ground you walk on. Whatever spell you have on him, don't let if fade.”

“If Joffery has tormented you as you claim, then why come all the way to King's Landing once he took the throne?” Olenna asked. Sansa looked away from Margaery and toward the elder Tyrell. It was clear that while she liked Sansa, she didn't particularly trust her. It wasn't clear if the mistrust was due to Sansa herself or who she was married to. “You're smart woman, you should have stayed away and yet you married a member of his small counsel. Why?”

“The same reason you allow Margaery to marry him. Tell Lady Olenna, if you didn't want Margaery to marry Joffery, you could end it today. You could end everything and no one would be the wiser. But you don't. Why? And it is not because of your son.” Olenna didn't reply, instead holding her tongue and she just watched Sansa, who gave a rather contemptuous laugh. “No. We both need Joffery, as much as I hate admit it.”

“You’re no fool, I admire that about you.” Olenna replied with a smirk. “Although, I’m not sure it is a comfort for Littlefinger to have such a wife. It is clear that he is dangerous on his own but with a wife such as you, it’s a perfect storm. The things the two of you will accomplish will be staggering. Perhaps I will stick around until the wedding after all……once the postponement is over of course.” She added in an offhand manner.

“And I’m sure that you had nothing to do with that, of course.” Sansa replied with a smirk. It was common for wedding or any type of festivities would be postponed if a family member died. Seeing that the King’s ‘father’ had passed away, Joffery would not be able to marry until the mourning period was completed. However, it had been over a month since the King’s death and Joffery should be free to marry as pleases in a few weeks. However, no wedding had been announced and Sansa was certain that Olenna had a hand in the delay.

“Of course not.” Olenna replied and Sansa smirked at her. Margaery said nothing and Sansa could get a read on her. She wasn’t sure if the younger Tyrell wanted the postponement or if she wanted the marriage to take place. It was obvious that she wanted to be queen but did she want a king? Margaery would be a great queen, one where her people would adore her. However, it would be far easier if she had a king that she could control. Either way, Margaery would be a powerful friend to have in their corner. “You’re going to have him assassinated, aren’t you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Sansa replied. She wasn’t going to admit her hopes but it was indeed what she wanted and she could tell that Olenna wouldn’t stand in her way if she desired such things. She was unsure on exactly when or how she would take such action but one day, Sansa would have his blood on her hands; not just for herself but for Bran as well. If she could burn the entirety of the Lannisters, she would take that opportunity. “Even thinking such things is treason.”

“Your smirk says everything my dear.” Olenna replied but shared the same smirk. “I suppose it is a good thing that you and your husband are friends of ours. I would hate to be on your bad side. Well, I suppose that you best begin working on Tommen my dear. You have done wonders with Joffery, I’m sure that Tommen would be an easy feet.”

“I would be careful of course Margaery, making Joffery jealous would be unwise.” Sansa stated and Margaery smiled. Sansa could see the wheels turning in her mind; planning the seduction of a fourteen year old boy would be simple compared to the seventeen year old sadistic King. Tommen was gentle and had a kind heart but was a fool. Margaery could play the victim of Joffery’s abuse, gaining Tommen’s sympathy. Tommen would never confront his elder brother but would be more than welcoming to assist a terrified woman.

“Don’t worry about Joffery or Tommen. I will have them under control.” Margaery stated with a small smile. She had been quiet during their lunch, allowing her grandmother to take the reins but Sansa could tell that Margaery was not one to stand on the sidelines. “I will have both of them eating out of my hands.” Sansa smirked and picked up her goblet, taking another drink. Perhaps Margaery and she would become good friends after all.

“I’m sure you will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Olenna. I love her. She is my fav after Baelish and Sansa. I just love how she takes no ones bullshit. When I'm old, I can so see me being like her.


	37. Chapter 37

The sun had set and the flicker of torches echoed through the castle. It was dark but voices could still be heard, laughing and talking through any open window. Sansa supposed that was how life would be in King's Landing. It was never quiet and no matter where she turned, someone would be just around the corner. She just never realized how crowded it would be. She knew that with time, people would leave and the noise would go down; she would just have to get used to the constant chatter.

She was sitting out on the balcony looking over the city. She could see candle light flickering in windows or a moving ball of light as someone walked through the streets. Shae was with her, reading from one of the books, not wanting to leave her new mistress alone. Sansa had found it odd seeing that she knew that she was reporting to Tyrion Lannister, a fact that he made perfectly clear, but Shae seemed concerned about her. It was as though the foreign woman recognized something in her that she saw in herself. Sansa had attempted to dismiss the woman a few hours earlier but Shae stated that she would wait for Baelish to return.

A few hours after her lunch with Margaery and Olenna, Baelish had sent word that there were some issues with the books he kept as Master of Coin and it would take a few hours to sort out. So, instead of dining with her husband, Sansa ate with her father, brother and sister. It was an awkward meal, everyone still reeling from the night before. When Sansa stated that she would be having her evening meal with them, Ned ordered her favorites to be served. Giving Sansa gifts was the only way Ned knew how to connect with her. Robb simply dotted on her causing Sansa to never have to lift a finger. Arya just sat back and did absolutely nothing that she wouldn't normally do; something Sansa was grateful for. 

Now, hours after the meal had been finished and the sun had set, Sansa sat on their balcony, waiting for her husband to return. Waiting wasn't something she prone to doing. It wasn't awfully late but Sansa hadn't even undressed for the evening. Sansa pushed from the iron chair, causing Shae to stir. Sansa entered her suits and went toward her sleeping chambers. She opened her wardrobe and pulled out a cloak. It was made of purple silk and it matched the purple dress she was wearing. 

“M'lady, what are you doing?” Shae asked. She had thought that her mistress would be ready to turn in for the night but it appeared to be the exact opposite. Sansa turned and grabbed her dagger from the bedside table. She lifted her dress and fasted the holster around her calf. 

“I'm going to find my husband. You are dismissed for the night.” With that, Sansa swept past Shae and called for Lady. She left her suits with her direwolf, not bothering to grab a candle on her way out. King's Landing was far better lit at night than Winterfell had ever been. She walked the stone corridor quickly. She would pass a few people and she never bothered to stop and speak with anyone. She knew what their topic of conversation would be and she had no desire to talk of Stannis Baratheon anymore. The man was dead and she had decided to move on from it. 

She never lifted her hood. There was no point. Lady was trotting beside her and everyone would know that it was her under the hood. If she desired to be hidden and unnoticed, she would have changed her clothes and left Lady back in her suits, or let the wolf roam on her own. Yet, she found that it didn't matter if people knew she was going to visit her husband, there was nothing scandalous in that.

She found his solar quickly. Baelish had pointed it out to her when they first arrived the day before. He had taken her on a small tour of the castle as they were making their way toward the small area they would call home for awhile. She followed the path she remembered toward his solar and once she reached it, she noticed that there was a guard standing outside the door. She recognized that it was one of the guards Baelish paid rather well; he had pointed them all out to her so she would know which ones were in his pocket. She made a move to open the door but the guard stopped her.

“Lord Baelish asked not to be disturbed.” The guard stopped her and Sansa looked at him in an annoyed manner. She bit her lip and crossed her arms. If she wanted to see her husband, a guard was not going to stop her. 

“I'm his wife. If I want to see my husband, then I shall do so.” Sansa replied but the guard didn't budge. She huffed in frustration and reached for the door again. The guards placed his hands on her shoulders and moved her away. It wasn't rough but it was enough for Sansa to tense up and panic. The last time a guard with a gold cloak touched her had been out of cruelty. Seeing her mistress's distress, Lady bared her teeth and growled. The guard took in the large angry direwolf and slowly backed away. 

The door to the solar opened and Baelish looked around it time to see the guard release his wife. He had heard the commotion outside his door and decided to investigate. He knew that the hour was growing late and that he would be heading back to their suits but he didn't expect to find his wife waiting outside his door. He took in the scene before him and noticed his wife's distress. He stepped forward and took Sansa into his arms while Lady continue to growl at the terrified guard.

“What is going on here?” Baelish demanded at the guard who couldn't speak. His eyes were wide and never left Lady. Lady's hair was standing on end and she was crouched down low as though she was about to pouch at any second. “Lady! In!.” The direwolf whimpered and slowly made her way into the solar. Since her mistress's marriage, Lady had taken to Baelish because of the close bond he had with Sansa. Lady could sense his protective nature over Sansa and whenever he gave a command, the direwolf obeyed. “I will ask you again, what happened?” 

“You asked not to be disturbed, sir.” The guard replied and looked directly at Baelish, who sighed in irritation. Sansa was still buried in his arms and he could feel her tremble slightly. Her emotions were still racing from the events of the day and while the guard was not the gold cloak who participated in her rape, it was still too raw to allow any gold cloak to place his hands on her. 

“My wife can disturb me at any time.” Baelish stated in a stern voice. He leaned in and kissed the top of her head. He took his one hand and pushed the door open farther. Sansa moved inside the solar and Baelish turned back to the guard. “And you are never to put your hands on my wife in any manner, is that understood?” The guard nodded and Baelish shut the door with a quick snap. 

Sansa looked around the solar and noticed how elegant it was. This room, much like their suits, was full of color. Baelish certainly liked the finer things in life. There was a wooden desk across the room and it was piled with books on top of it. There were several bookshelves filled with books and a few couches that lined the walls. She walked over to one of the couches and sat down upon one. Baelish followed her and sat down beside her, gathering her in his arms. 

“Sweetling. Are you alright? What are you doing here?”

“I'm okay. I just wasn't expecting him to touch me, that is all.” Sansa replied and she could feel her husband tense under her. She knew that he didn't like the idea of anyone touching her in any manner besides him and it was something she could agree on. She still felt uncomfortable when her own family hugged her; Baelish was always the exception. He as the only person that she would allow to have full control over her person. “It was growing late and I missed you. I thought I would come and see what was taking you so long.”

“The hour is growing late.” Baelish stated as he looked out the window. He gave a small laugh and kissed the top of her head. “I guess I will have to remember that I have a young wife at home that needs my company. Forgive an old man Sweetling, it is easy to fall back into old habits.” Sansa giggled and kissed him. “The books took a bit more time than I anticipated. I knew that man I put in my place was an imbecile but not this much. I've been gone a year and I realized that cleaning up the mess he created would take more time than I anticipated.” 

“If he was such an idiot, why did you allow him to be your replacement?” Sansa asked. She shifted so her legs would drape over his legs. She leaned back on the pillows and allowed his hands to begin to draw small circles on her legs. 

“I put him as my replacement because he was an idiot.” Baelish stated and Sansa nodded. It would be unwise for her husband to assign his job to anyone who could possibly uncover his dealings. Someone with a clue as to what they would be doing could easily discover exactly how Westeros became so in debt to the Iron Bank. “Enough talk about boring old numbers. Tell me, what did you discuss with the Queen and how did your lunch go today? I'm sure both were very interesting.” 

“Well, the Queen thinks I'm a fool and that you have been playing me from the start.” Baelish smirked at that. He slowly began to trace his hands up her legs and back down again. Each time his hands grew higher and higher. “She also hates Margaery. She stated that she wished that I was going to be her daughter in law. I think that is something we could use.” 

“Tell me how.” Baelish stated in the tone he reserved for when he was coaching her. He found an sense of satisfaction when he was mentoring her. It was foreplay for them, just as the game was an aphrodisiac. Sansa kicked off her sandals and shifted slightly so that her one foot was behind her behind him. Baelish moved that her legs were on either side of him but never moved to lay on top of her.

“I think that if we can cause was rift between mother and son it will make taking control of the throne so much easier, and Margaery is the perfect excuse. The closer the King becomes to Margaery the more power the Tyrells have. More power for the Tyrells and less for the Lannisters.” Sansa stated as she bit her bottom lip. Her finger trailed down to touch her mockingbird pendant that was lying in between her covered breast. The dress had a dangerously low cleavage; her breast were covered but the valley between them were bare. The mockingbird pendant lay perfectly between them. She could see her husband's eyes dark with lust at the site of it. 

“And your meeting with our future queen and her feisty grandmother, how did that go?” Baelish asked in a husky voice. He grasped on of her ankles and placed a kiss on one of them while his other hand hiked her dress up her legs. He licked and nipped causing her to whimper. “What did you think of Lady Olenna's thorns?” 

“I thought they were perfectly lovely.” Sansa giggled as she felt one of his hands slide up toward her hip and underneath her dress. His thumb pressed against her nub and Sansa bucked against him. He didn't move his thumb but instead held it against her waiting for her to tell him more. “She wanted to know of Joffery's character.” Baelish began to move his thumb in a circular motion against her and Sansa's head fell back. 

“And what did you tell her?”

“The truth.” Baelish pressed harder causing her to hiss. “She pried it out of me, but it was as though she already knew from Margaery.” He began to twirl his thumb again. “She told Margaery to get close to Tommen. Margaery stated that it wouldn't be difficult because Tommen isn't the brightest boy. A few easy lines here and there about how horrible Joffery is, Tommen will be eating out of her hand.” Baelish smirked and rewarded her with slipping one and then another of his fingers inside of her. He slowly began to pump them in and out of her. Sansa arched against him and grabbed the arm of the couch behind her. A loud moan escaped her and she was certain that the guard standing behind the door would have heard her. 

“Anything else?” Baelish shifted and got on his knees in front of her. His hand still working her and he enjoyed watching her arch and moan under him. His motions were slow, purposefully keeping her from falling over the edge. “Tell me exactly what the Queen of Thorns told you. What is she thinking? What is she planning?” 

“She thinks we are going to kill Joffery. She seems pleased with the idea-ah!” Sansa arched as he curled his fingers inside of her, hitting a particular spot. She could tell that her husband was pleased with her because his motions began to pick up pace. Faster and faster his hands moved in and out of her. It wasn't long before her toes curled and she was flying. Baelish withdrew his hands from inside of her and climbed on top of her. He leaned down and kissed her lightly. Once she was coming down from her high, she reached up and traced his cheekbone. “She loves Margaery, she does not want to see her married to such a monster. If we don't kill him; she might.” 

“Perhaps we should keep our hands clean.” Sansa smirked and raised her eyebrow in question. Baelish laughed lightly. “In this matter. Let Olenna take control. Allow her to protect her granddaughter. Either way the outcome with be in our favor.” Sansa looked at him, keeping her emotions passive. She weaved her hands through his greying black hair and curled her fingers. She tugged at his hair and pushed him back into a sitting position. She sat up and straddled his legs. 

“I want him to suffer.” Sansa leaned down and took Baelish's lips in her own. The kissed for a few moments before Sansa broke away. “I want to hear him breathe his last breath.” She began kissing down his jaw. “I want want to watch the life leave his eyes.” She began to suck on his neck and she knew that she would leave a mark for the world to see in the morning. Sansa brought her lips to his ear and breathed deeply. The next words came out in a whisper. “Joffery is my Lysa. He is mine.” 

She pulled away and looked down at him. There was a flicker of understanding. He would give her anything she wanted and if she wanted Joffery's blood on her hands then he would do anything to make that happen. Sansa smirked, knowing she would get her way. She reached down and untied the laces of his breeches. He lifted his hips lightly in order for her to pull his member out. Baelish bunched her skirts up around her hips and she lowered herself onto him. 

Sansa moaned at the feel of him. She felt full and wonderful with him inside of her. She kissed his lips as she began to rotate her hips. It was slow and the sound of their moans echoed against the stone walls. It was clear that the guard outside, while clueless as to what their foreplay entitled, knew exactly what they were doing just behind the door. Anyone who may have passed by the solar would have been able to hear them. The knowledge that someone could hear her fucking her husband, didn't embarrass Sansa in the slightest. Instead it edged her forward. 

“Petyr!” Sansa yelled and threw her head back. Baelish leaned up and wrapped his arms around her waist. He latched his lips onto her porcelain skin. His tongue licked at her collarbone and he slowly trailed his lips down to the valley of her breast. Once he reached her pendant, Sansa changed direction of her hips, causing him to hiss against the mockingbird. 

“You're such a naughty girl.” Baelish stated with a smirk on his face. He wrapped his hand in her long red hand and pulled. He roughly pushed her back down onto the couch. Her head hit against the pillow and she cried out in pleasure at the unexpected turn of events. Her legs spread wider, allowing him sit lie comfortably between them. “I want to hear you scream for me.” 

He started to pound against her and Sansa did exactly as he requested. She screamed, whimpered and moaned so loudly that no one would be unclear of exactly how her husband pleased her. It wasn't slow and gentle as he hand been the night before. It was a power struggle and it was intoxicating. She would pull and scratch at his clothing while her lips bit his. Baelish would groan against her ear and kiss her jaw bone. The couch below them creaked and moaned so much that in the back of Sansa's mind, she was concerned that it would break below them. However, no matter how hard he rutted against her, the legs of the couch never gave out. She moved her foot against his clothed legs and her fingernails clawed at him. 

“Gods Sansa.” Baelish all but yelled out as Sansa arched against him. A wicked gleam appeared in her eyes and she smirked at him. She placed her hands on his chest and pushed him. Caught off guard, Baelish tumbled backward and his back hit the wooden floor. He groaned, more out of shock than pain. Sansa moved off the couch and crawled on top of him just in time for the wooden door to swing open. The guard had thought something untoward had happened to his master but his eyes widened when he saw Baelish's young wife on top of him. Baelish looked at him briefly and with a rough, husky voice dismissed the guard, who scurried out of the solar as quickly as he came. Baelish reached down and gripped Sansa's hips tightly. “Tsk Tsk. What will he think of us now?”

“Don't care.” Sansa leaned down and kissed him passionately. “You did say I was a naughty girl.” She lifted herself up slightly and took his member in hand, lowering herself down upon him again. She placed her hands on his chest and began rocking against him. It was quick and hard causing her nails to dig into his chest. Baelish trailed his hands up her leg and toward her center. He wasn't going to last long and didn't want to leave her feeling unsatisfied. After a few moments of thrusting and screaming, both fell over the edge together. 

Sansa rolled off of him and landed on the floor, breathing heavily. Baelish reached down and took her hand in his, kissing the back of it. They two of them laid there, allowing their hearts to slow and their breathing to go back to normal. Baelish turned his head and looked at his wife. 

“Please know that anything you want, I will get it for you.” Baelish stated and Sansa nodded. He was referring to her request that Joffery's life belonged to her. He completely understood why she felt that way, because he knew how much he desired to throw Lysa through that moon door. Baelish tucked himself back in his breeches, not even bothering to clean himself, and stood. He held out his hand to Sansa, who took it happily. “Let me show you something.”

“And what will you be showing me?” Sansa asked as he pulled her from the floor. He led her over to his desk and sat down behind it. He held out his arms, welcoming her into them. She happily sat down on his lip like a small child out sit on her father's lap. He scooted them closer to the desk and opened one book. 

“These books belong the Seven Kingdoms. Its the accounts and gold that belongs to each of the houses and the throne as a whole. It holds all the loans that have been taken out and to whom the debt is owed. As you can see, the Iron Bank is the biggest shareholder of the Seven Kingdoms. Most of the money is owed to them. If you look over here,” Baelish traced his finger over the page toward some numbers that were located on the other side. “This is the record of all the taxes that have been repaid this past year.” Baelish then flipped a few pages and at the top was his name. “This is our account.”

Sansa's widened. The numbers on that page were numerous. She knew that her husband was wealthy but she never imagined that he would be this wealthy. He was by far one of the most riches men in all of Westeros. However, she noticed that none of the gold in his possession came from embezzlement. There was a category for every single deposit and it was noted exactly where exactly his money came from. She knew that he had squandered the finances of everyone in the entirety of Westeros but not is own, and he kept record of it in order to protect himself.

She took the books from him and slowly flipped through them. It wasn't obvious but it was there. Each family's account, which she assumed he gained access to over the year he traveled around the Seven Kingdoms, seemed to be in order. There seemed to be no hint of foul play but Sansa continued to flip each page and read. It was spelled out how exactly Westeros lost it's money, yet none of it could point to Baelish. He covered his tracks far to well. Sansa turned in his arms and looked at her husband. He wore that famous smirk on his lips and she could tell that he was pleased with himself. 

“This is how you bankrupted the Seven Kingdoms. These are the royal ledgers!” Sansa stated and Baelish nodded. He pulled her closer to him. “And you just leave here, in your solar?”

“Oh no Sweetling. These are kept in one of my brothels. One of the reasons I needed to head there so early this morning.” He bit her ear slightly. “Shall I take you there tomorrow when I return them? Shall I show you how our gold is made?” He chuckled at her and she could feel his breath against her skin. “I'm certain we could find a thing or two to do while we are there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...this chapter was not meant to be a smut chapter. At all. However, neither Sansa nor Baelish wanted to behave and this was the outcome. I tried to control them but they just wouldn't listen to me. I knew they had issues keeping their hands to themselves but come on guys! We know you go at it like rabbits! 
> 
> Oh well. I'm sure you enjoyed their tryst.


	38. Chapter 38

The brothel was colorful. It was covered in plush rugs, fancy pillows and silk curtains covering the windows. It was very clean and felt very luxurious. If this was not a place of fortification, Sansa thought that she could have just laid down and rested her head. She was tired but it was no surprise for her husband had wore her out the night before. After their adventure in the solar they continued to devour each other back in their chambers. 

When they woke later than normal, Baelish dragged his wife out of bed and demanded her to be dressed. They left the Red Keep quickly, leaving Lady behind. She was certain that the direwolf was in the Godswood with Greywind and Nymeria by now. She had thought that they would leave under some type of cover but instead, it was as though Baelish flashed the news that he was taking his wife to one of his brothels. 

They traveled through King's Landing and made it to the brothel quickly. The brothel itself was up scale and Sansa noticed that a mockingbird was painted on the front entrance. Once they entered, Baelish spoke harshly to a tall woman with curly red hair piled on top of her head. He ordered all of the prostitutes who were not occupied with customers to congregate in his solar. Baelish's solar was large with plush furnishing and gold windows with black iron covered by deep red curtains. The doorways were covered with beads that hung from the archways.There was a couch pushed up against the back wall and a table in front of it with a wide arrange of fruit. There was a musician who played the harp in the common room and along with the artwork that hung on the wall, the brothel had a very elegant feel to it. 

The girls and to Sansa's surprise, boys entered his solar in all manner of dress; some less than others. Baelish had them all line in a single orderly fashion. Sansa noticed that the tall red headed woman stood back with an equally tall blond man. She could only assume that they were above the rest in some fashion. Baelish sat down on one of the plush chairs by the window on the left side of the room. Sansa walked up the line and inspected each girl and boy. Some were old and some were young; some light some dark; tall and short. She had to admit that they would serve all manner of tastes. 

There was one girl she noticed, in the middle of the line, was a tall girl around her age. She was taller than Sansa and her red hair was lighter than her's but she couldn't deny the resemblance. She moved away from her and continued to inspect the rest of the prostitutes. Eventually Sansa turned away and walked over to her husband with a smirk on her face. Baelish held out his hand and Sansa placed her's in it, causing him to lift it to his lips. He stood from his chair and grabbed his wife around the waist. He kissed her passionately in front of the entire room. Once their lips broke apart, Baelish moved to eye the crowd, never letting go of his wife.

“I would like to introduce to you my wife, Lady Sansa Baelish. She will be here from time to time, and sometimes she will be here during my absence. Any concerns or anything at all can be reported to her and she will handle it as she sees fit. Is that clear?” There were a few nods and murmurs in agreement. “Good, back to work. Ros, Olyvar, please stay.” The rest of them left through the beaded covered archway. Baelish led Sansa toward the two reaming prostitutes in his solar. “Sansa this is Ros and Olyvar. Ros runs the establishment while we are away and Olyvar assists. You will see him around the castle, spending time with our Ser Loras. If either of you ever have anything to report, feel free to tell her if either of you cannot find me.” The two of them bowed and agreed. Baelish dismissed the two of them and once they were gone he pulled her close again. “Alone at last. Tell me your thoughts.” 

“I think its a very pleasing establishment. I can see why men and some women would choose to come to you when they needed some kind of fix.” She smirked at him. In truth she was rather impressed. When she thought of a whorehouse, her mind went to a dirty run down building with unkept people. Yet, her husband's establishment was far nicer than some nobles lived in. “But my main question is, what is the master's fetish? What does he crave? Tell me Lord Baelish, what do you desire?” 

“I desire..” Baelish's eyes roamed her coy smile. She was feeling playful and he was enjoying every moment of it. Sansa grabbed his hands and slowly led him toward his desk. She stepped up the couple of steps and pushed herself up to sit on the wooden desk. She crossed her legs and bit her bottom lip. “I desire a vexing young woman in a pink dress that is held together by black ties in the front.” Baelish reached and slowly began to untie the front of her dress. “I desire a woman in a black chocker with my sigil on it. What I desire is sitting on my desk, begging me to fuck her.” 

Sansa smirked wildly at him and leaned up to kiss him. His tongue invaded her mouth and she arched her back when she felt his thumb run over the peak of her breast. He pushed the pink fabric aside, allowing her chest to be bare to him. Sansa worked on his coat and once it was completely open, she pushed it off his shoulders, leaving him standing in his breeches and tunic. 

Baelish leaned down and took one of her breasts into his mouth. Sansa moaned against him as he bit at her nipple. She uncrossed her legs and spread them for her husband. She wrapped the one around his waist pulling him closer to her. She weaved her hands into his hair and threw her head back as she cried out his name. 

“Uh um.” The two of them froze and Baelish broke away from her. He turned, still blocking his wife from view and saw Lord Tyrion Lannister standing in the archway. Sansa quickly began fastening the front of her dress. Once she was presentable she noticed that Tyrion was not alone but was accompanied by a scruffy looking man with brown facial hair and a sword on his belt. “Please, don't stop because of Bronn and I. We do love a good show.” 

“I'm sorry Lord Baelish, I tried to stop them but they insisted on forcing their way in.” Olyvar stated looking haggard. It was clear that he had tried to stop the intruders but was unsuccessful. Baelish didn't reply, instead he continued to glare at Tyrion, making it obvious that he was frustrated to have been interrupted. 

“It's alright Olyvar. You may go.” Sansa stated and the boy left in a hurry. It was clear that he didn't want to displease Baelish, something that she could understand completely. Although, she was certain that his reasons for making his employer happy were completely different than her's. 

Baelish turned to make sure his wife was properly dressed and moved away from her. He bent down to pick up his coat but didn't put it back on. Instead he flung it on one of the chairs behind his desk. He sat down in the master's chair while Sansa remained perched on the desk. Tyrion and Bronn moved closer, Bronn grabbing one chair and placing it in front of the desk. Tyrion sat down in the chair while Bronn simply stood behind it. 

“And what do we owe the pleasure of your visit Lord Tyrion?” Baelish asked in a questioning tone. Sansa could tell that he was less than pleased. It wasn't everyday that they were interrupted during one of their tryst and forced to stop. Most people would stay away if they heard the noises they would make but that seemed not to be an issue for Tyrion. Instead it seemed to amuse him. 

“I just heard that the two of you would be in the neighborhood and I decided it was time I paid a visit...for business anyway. I've spent plenty of time here for pleasure.” Tyrion stated and Bronn smirked. Sansa had heard of his reputation in the North for visiting the brothels there. It would not surprise her if he was someone who frequented Baelish's establishment. 

“You mean to say that Shae informed you of our whereabouts?” Sansa stated with a smirk. She cocked her head and out of the corner of her eye, she could see the corners of Baelish's mouth perk up. Tyrion smiled as well. She knew that he let slip of the broken vase on purpose, as though he was telling her that Shae belonged to him in the same way Baelish owned Ros and Olyvar. 

“I knew that you would pick up on that.” Tyrion stated, looking at her. His eyes traveled the length of her but it wasn't in the same manner that Baelish looked at her. It was as though he was studying her worth and not her sexuality. She was Baelish's wife and Tyrion wasn't fool enough to mess with that. “My sister thinks that you are an empty headed child and it pleases me to see her wrong. I actually get some kind of joy out of it. But that is besides the point.” 

“Then what is the point?” Baelish snapped. Sansa felt for him. He was frustrated and needed some type of release. Sansa would be more than willing to accommodate his frustration but she knew that he was not one to have people watch them in the bedroom. Baelish was many things and being possessive was one of them. He didn't want anyone else seeing his wife with her legs spread. “Did you come all this way to tell us that you planted the whore you like to fuck to spy on us?” Sansa startled slightly but she hid it well. It never occurred to her that Shae would be more to Tyrion than an informant, which made Shae slightly less trustworthy. 

“I didn't place her, and she is no more a whore than Lady Baelish is.” It was a compliment she supposed. “I was just as surprised as you were when she told me of her placement.” Baelish sat up straighter and looked at Tyrion. If Tyrion didn't put Shae into their service than who did? Shae had stated that she was placed by the King but Sansa knew Joffery. He wasn't cunning enough to think of placing his uncle's mistress in his ex-betrothed service in order to spy on her. “After a bit of...convincing, I discovered that Lord Varys placed her there. Not surprising since they have an odd friendship. I never did understand it.” Lie. Sansa could tell that Tyrion thought very highly of the eunuch. “Something about the good of the realm. I can promise you that she is not there to spy on you Lady Baelish. She genuinely likes you.” 

“I'm still not seeing the point.” Baelish stated. Sansa knew that he was filing the information that Varys placed Shae in their services for another time. Of course he would be asking his old friend of his intentions. He knew that Sansa was pleased with Shae's services thus far and if Sansa could gain the handmaiden's trust, perhaps Shae would prove useful. “Why are you here?” 

“Anxious to continue your activities I see.” Tyrion stated and Bronn laughed. It was clear that the taller man was not used to holding his tongue but was told to let Tyrion take the lead. Baelish did not react well to the jab, and continued to glare at the dwarf. “I'm here to offer an olive-branch of sorts. A truce if you will.” Baelish looked interested and leaned back again.

“A truce?” 

“Yes.” Tyrion stated and smirked. He knew that he had Baelish's interest peaked. Sansa looked to her husband and wondered what he would do with such a truce. They would take it of course, seeing as it would be bad form to simply turn the offer away. The question was, would they keep to it? Sansa slid off the desk and walked around toward her husband.

“And what would this truce consist of?” Sansa asked as she sat on the arm of Baelish's chair. Her husband wrapped his arm around her hips, holding her in place. Sansa leaned against him, propping her elbow on his shoulder, allowing her to rest her head against her head against her hand. “And why should we trust anything you offer?” 

“I see you have her well trained Lord Baelish.” Tyrion stated with a laugh. Sansa's eyes narrowed and Tyrion held up his hand in apology. “I meant no offense Lady Baelish. It just amazes me at the women you have become since the last time I saw you. You were just a girl then.” Tyrion stated and there was a sad look in his eyes. Guilt. He felt guilt at what his nephew had done to her. “Which brings to as why I am here. As you may know my father has been named Hand of the King.” Sansa didn't know that. 

“And what does that have to do with you?” Baelish asked. The news of Stannis's execution masked the fact that Tywin had taken over the position of Hand of the King. She couldn't tell whether or not he knew but either way, he was less than pleased. It was just another notch in the Lannisters power. She knew that knocking the Lannisters from their pedestal wasn't as personal for him as it was for her, but he still wanted the same outcome. After that, Sansa wasn't so sure. 

“Everything. My brother has been in Casterly Rock for the last two years and is getting restless. My father is traveling home in hopes of arranging a marriage for Jaime, I doubt he will be successful.” Tyrion stated with a smirk and everyone knew why. While Cersei was more than willing to bed other men besides her twin brother, Jaime was shamelessly devoted to his sister. “During my father's absences I will be acting in his steed as Hand of the King.” 

“I take it that you have some interesting plans for your temporary stay as Hand?” Baelish stated. Sansa looked between the two men and they both were dwelling on the word 'temporary'. She could understand the appeal of temporarily being the Hand. In power for long enough to do what needed to be done, but would avoid the nastiness of what came with being Hand. The last two had died well before their time. 

“I have a few things up my sleeve.” Tyrion stated in a vague voice. Sansa could only imagine what he was planning. She was certain that Tyrion was not as clever as her husband but then again, she could be bias. “What I am offering is this, you stay out of my way with the assurance that nothing I do will affect either of you or Lady Baelish's family. I have no use for harming them. And in return ask the same of you.”

It was an interesting offer and it wasn't exactly an alliance. It was a truce to stay out of each other's way. Tyrion could operate as he pleased and the same could be done for Sansa and Baelish. There was the chance that their moves would cross one another but it was a chance they had to take. Although it would make some of their choices that much more limited. They could either take the deal or leave it, either way it would be a test.

If they didn't take the deal, then Tyrion would know they were plotting something that could harm his family. If they took the deal and then backstabbed him; well that would be just as telling. If they took the deal and kept their word, then perhaps Tyrion could become a powerful friend. However, Sansa was unsure if she ever wanted to be friends with a Lannister, even a decent one. 

“If I am understanding you correctly, during the time that you act as Hand of the King, you will leave myself, my husband and my family alone?” Sansa asked and Tyrion nodded. “And all you ask is that we leave you and your family alone?” No deal. Sansa wanted nothing more than to watch the Lannisters burn, if Tyrion was asking her to take that off the table then she was not willing to keep any deal she made with him. 

“I think you misunderstood me Lady Baelish. You can scheme all you want when it comes to my sister and that awful creature I have the misfortune of calling a nephew and King. Any plans you have for them, I don't care. I have burned that bridge along time ago. As long as you leave me and my plans alone, I will do the same for you.” Tyrion paused. “Although I am rather fond of Myrcella and Tommen, but they are more of a request than a demand.” 

Sansa looked at Baelish and it was clear that he was considering the terms. If they took the deal, it wouldn't change their course to much. They still would be able to move forward with their plans. There was a plot involving Tommen but it wasn't theirs, they were more than willing to just stand aside and allow Margaery to play with the boy. Other than the chance of a broken heart, no real harm would come to him. 

“We will accept your deal on one condition.” Baelish stated and Sansa could tell that whatever he was thinking, it would be a deal breaker. If Tyrion didn't agree, then it gave them a reason not to accept the truce without them appearing as though they were his enemies. Even before he made this offer, Sansa never considered the dwarf in her plans but if he was acting as Hand of the King, that could possibly change. If he was good to his word, it could be beneficial to them to have the Hand not be plotting against them for a time. Then the deal would be null and void once Tywin returned to King's Landing. 

“I'm listening.”

“You keep your nephew on a short leash and away from Sansa. If I get wind that he even hurt a hair on my wife's head, there will be no more deal.” Baelish leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk. His voice was low and deadly. If Joffery harmed her in anyway, Baelish was stating that he would hold Tyrion personally responsible. Tyrion was silent for a moment and turned to Sansa.

“I am very sorry for what he did to you and for my sister for attempting to cover up his actions with such vile lies. I assure you that most do not believe them.” Sansa smiled lightly, touched by his concern. “I will attempt to control my nephew but you must understand that holding Joffery back is like caging an angry lion. Sooner or later he will lash out.” 

“We understand the risks Lord Tyrion.” Sansa replied and linked her hands with Baelish's. “If you can control Joffery and no harm comes to us, then you have our word that we will leave you and your schemes alone.” While he was Hand of course. The moment Tywin returned, Tyrion would become fair game again.

Sansa of course had to admit that she didn't mind Tyrion. He was one of the few Lannisters that if he lived to the end of this game, she wouldn't mind. In another world she might have even admired him and his kind words. He had always been sweet to her and her family. When Bran had died, he seemed sincere when he offered his condolences. During that first visit at Winterfell, when King Robert asked Ned to become Hand of the King, she had grown to tolerate the dwarf. Her selfish attitude and mindset had found him distasteful, no matter how kind he had been. He had seemed to really enjoy Winterfell and the North in general.

Yet, he never came with King Robert and Queen Cersei the times they visited Winterfell. She wondered if Joffery would have been able to harm her if Tyrion was there. Tyrion seemed to be the only one willing to correct Joffery with any means possible. It was as though the dwarf knew exactly what the young King was capable of and that scared him just as much as it did Sansa. Tyrion wasn't blind to the monster his sister birthed. 

Cersei's only redeeming quality was the love for her children. She would be willing to do anything to protect them and Sansa could understand that, for Tommen and Myrcella. Those two were lovely children that any parent would be proud of. Yet, Joffery was a monster and she could never understand how any mother would be willing to protect him. If any of her siblings had done such horrible things, she could not see Catelyn protecting them. It would hurt her certainly but she would never make such allowances for her children. 

Her mind wondered to what their children would be like. She had been toying with the idea and she wouldn't lie and say that it didn't excite her. She wanted to give Baelish a child. After the damage Joffery had done, Sansa never thought she would have children but now she couldn't deny that it would happen one day. She could only hope was that the Lannisters would be dead and that they could never harm them. The last thing she wanted was for her children to be subjugated to such cruelty. 

Suddenly the doors to Baelish's solar opened and Olyvar rushed in, carrying a letter in his hand. Both Sansa and Baelish thought that Olyvar would deliver the letter to one of them but instead he handed it to Tyrion. The dwarf seemed to be just as surprised as they were. Olyvar gave a small look of apology to Sansa and Baelish before leaving. It was silent as Tyrion opened the letter. Sansa could see his small eyes trace over the words. He sighed and slowly folded the letter back up and handed it to Bronn.

“Well that is unfortunate. My dear Cersei is going to be heartbroken.” Tyrion stated mournfully. Sansa leaned forward and looked at the dwarf. He seemed sad for a moment but then laughed. “It appears that my family has just suffered a loss. My cousin, Lancel has committed suicide. My sister was rather found of him.” 

Suicide. Lancel Lannister committed suicide and Sansa almost wanted to laugh. She may not know the exact manner as to how he died but she was certain that Lancel didn't take his own life. His death had been ordered and Lancel had been murdered. One name had been crossed off Arya's hit list and she wondered exactly who was left remaining.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a single person guess Lancel. A few said that they would think it would be a Lannister but didn't know which one. I wonder if any of you considered him??
> 
> Shocked?


	39. Chapter 39

Ser Lores Tyrell pivoted against his opponent. His sword was quick and sharp and Sansa could tell that he was talented. Although, she could see that he was more concerned with how he appeared, with his golden curls and keeping his armor clean, more so than how he performed on the field. He would have been the perfect knight that Sansa’s old self would have dreamed about. It would have been years before the old Sansa would have realized that he appeared to be one man but was really another. She would have not taken kindly to learn that her husband bedded other men.

Margaery had asked Sansa and Arya to dine with her while her brother fenced. While the invite didn't sound appealing in the least, she knew she needed to befriend Margaery and when the offer was given, it was important that she accept. It took some convincing but Arya agreed to attend, making Margaery very pleased. The three of them sat and watched Lores fence with another knight and it was clear that Arya was itching to pick up a sword. She bit down on her stubbed nails and would twitch in her pale green dress.

No matter what her efforts were, it seemed very difficult for her to be able to spar as she had in Winterfell. Instead she was forced to watch someone else fence when she was certain she would have been able to beat him. Robb had promised to fence with her while they were in King's Landing but with the wedding approaching, his mind had been on other things. Not only had that but Arya been up to her own mischief. There was just very little time in a day to accomplish everything.

Margaery stood and cheered in a triumphant tone when her brother knocked the other knight to the green grass. Margaery was overly excited for her brother and Sansa could tell that the two of them were close. It was clear that they would do anything to protect each other. If Lores ever saw his sister being mistreated by the King, she was sure that Lores would follow in Jaime Lannister’s footsteps and become a Kingslayer. Sansa looked at the two men and noticed that Olyvar was attending to Lores. Sansa grinned, knowing exactly that the younger man was spying on behalf of her and her husband.

Margaery laughed and left the crimson colored canopy that had be set up in order for the ladies to keep cool while they watched the fencing match. The future queen glided gracefully toward her brother and her laughter could be heard from across the yard. Sansa looked at her sister and noticed that Arya was eyeing the siblings. Sansa knew that Arya was thinking of Robb and Jon, her brothers that would spar with her when they were at Winterfell. While it was still the early days of living in King’s Landing, she could tell that Arya was missing the old days of home and when life was far simpler. 

Sansa felt a tiny bit of homesickness at that moment. She would never go home to Winterfell as a Stark again. Baelish would take her to visit her family, that was certain, but it would never really be home. King’s Landing could never be home to her even if her mission of getting Joffery off the throne is successful. Harrenhal had possibilities and if the work and gold that they put into the estate did their job, it would prove to be gorgeous. She found the Riverlands to be very beautiful when she had been there and could feel herself growing to love the surrounding areas.

She reached out and took Arya’s hand into her’s and squeezed. The younger girl smiled warmly and it saddened Sansa. She knew that her family was not going to stay in King’s Landing for long and once they set off toward the North, Arya would be going with them. She had thought of trying to convince her father to allow Arya to stay with them but now that he knew the truth of what Joffery had done to her, she knew he was not going to allow his still innocent daughter to stay in such a place. He didn’t want to leave Sansa behind either but at least she would have Baelish to shield her. Ned also had no choice in the matter. Sansa was married to Baelish and anything he wanted would overrule what her father desired.

“So, Lancel Lannister? An interesting choice.” Sansa stated in a light manner. Lancel’s ‘suicide’ had been the topic of conversation for the last couple of days, even overthrowing Stannis’s execution for such gossip. However, she knew that Lancel did not kill himself; he had been found hanging in his suite but Sansa was certain that he was not the person who hoisted him into that noose. When she informed Baelish of her thoughts on his death, he smirked widely and stated that Arya’s choice could prove to be useful. His mind began to scheme but said nothing further on the subject.

“I needed a test run.” Arya shrugged as though the man’s death that she had a hand in was nothing important. It always amazed Sansa at how nonchalant Arya could be about such things. “I wanted to verify H’ghar’s word. I didn’t want to name someone who had power because that would be suspicious but I wanted someone who would hurt the Lannisters. Lancel was Cersei’s lover, seemed like a good choice to me.”

As Sansa thought on it, she saw the logic behind Arya’s choice. It would be unwise to name someone in power due to the fact that their death would be suspicious. It was smart for Arya to want to fly under the radar at first. She wanted to gain more information before deciding who her remaining two names should be. H’ghar stated that he would remain in King’s Landing until the debt was repaid, no matter how long it took. Arya requested that he remain, even if she did not and one way or another, she would get the names to him. Sansa could only assume that she was saving the larger names for when she was no longer in King’s Landing, in order to protect herself and her family.

“What are the two of you gossiping about over here?” Margaery stated with a wicked smile. She giggled and walked around the table in order to take her place next to Sansa. “Don’t worry, whatever the two of you are plotting, I will not stand in your way.” Sansa raised her eyebrow at her and giggled.

“We were doing no such thing.” Sansa stated causing both Arya and Margaery to laugh. Sansa raised the glass tea cup to her lips and grinned into the tea. “We were just discussing Robb and Roslin’s wedding.” Her brother was set to be married within the next few days and the closer the date came, the more unpleasant Robb’s mood became. It concerned Sansa because she noticed that he was spending less and less time with Roslin, as though being in her presence was disappointing. She wondered that when he was leaving Roslin to her own devices, such as her spending time with Stevron who was always in the company of Edmure, whose company he was seeking. It certainly wasn’t his family’s.

“Ah yes. Your brother’s wedding that is replacing mine. No worries though, my time will come soon enough.” Margaery stated with a wicked gleam in her eye. She tossed her long brown hair over her shoulder in confidence. It was clear that she had been working on Tommen when Joffrey was not in sight, playing the victim and the terrified bride. One way or another Margaery would become queen. “Roslin is a pretty little thing isn’t she? I’ve heard ghastly rumors of the Frey daughters but it appears that Roslin is perfectly lovely. Oh! Myrcella! Come join us.”

Princess Myrcella was strolling through the gardens and spotted the small group of girls. She slowly made her way toward them when Margaery called after her. Myrcella was as beautiful as she always way, a perfect replication of Cersei. Of course her heart was far kinder and her mind more intelligent. If Cersei had been more like her daughter, Sansa was sure that she would have the love of her people, even if she still feel in love with her brother.

“Good afternoon Ladies.” Myrcella stated and Sansa took in her appearance. She was wearing darker colors than normal to show that she was in mourning but her long blonde hair hung around her waist as always. Sansa could see the hint of red rubies that held part of her hair back. Sansa wondered how long Myrcella and her siblings had worn their mourning clothes when King Robert had died, seeing that none of them were dressed in mourning for their ‘father’ when they arrived in King’s Landing. For Lancel, Sansa knew it would only be a few days since he was only a cousin. By the time Robb’s wedding was here, they would be able to dress in their normal flare and colors again.

“I’m so sorry for your loss. I only met Lancel once but he seemed to a spirited man.” Margaery stated sincerely and Myrcella smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. Sansa was unclear if the small smile was out of grief or something else. The princess sat down at the end of the plush red couch that had been placed under the canopy for their comfort. Margaery took Myrcella’s hand and gave a squeeze. “We are to be sisters one day and I hope that you know if you need anything during this time, I am more than willing to be friend.”

Sansa watched the interaction with peaked interest. Margaery was taking the integration of the Lannisters seriously. Cersei hated her and it was clear that Margaery felt the same, however she was working on making all three of the Queen’s children adore her. Joffrey worshiped the ground his lady walked upon, Tommen wanted to save her from being brutalized and if she played her cards correctly, Myrcella would look at her as a sister. She would have the royal family at her beck and call and there was nothing Cersei would be able to do about it. The more isolated Cersei became, the better.

“I thank you for your kind words. I wasn’t close with my cousin but my mother was. She is broken up about his death. She doesn’t believe that he would have done such a thing to himself.” Myrcella stated in an offhand comment. Arya and Sansa shared a look between the two of them. It appeared that Myrcella didn’t think that anything untoward happened to her cousin but if Cersei thought so, then the Queen wouldn’t rest until the truth revealed itself. 

“Oh, that’s awful.” Margaery stated but Sansa could tell that she enjoyed the idea of Cersei being in pain. Sansa could understand how she completely disliked the older woman. When Sansa thought that Cersei was going to be her mother-in-law, she had adored her at first. She would go out of her way to please the woman but when Cersei’s true colors began to show, the more Sansa felt that burning hatred begin to grow in her. When Joffrey began to change and become violent towards her, she had thought that perhaps Cersei would be an ally in protecting her against her future husband. However she quickly learned that in Cersei’s eyes, Joffrey could do no wrong, even if it meant a few bruises on her Sansa’s ivory skin.

Sansa looked up and saw Baelish strutting across the perfectly green grass. He was holding one of his many leather ledgers that he would take to small council meetings with him. She beamed when she saw him and could help but notice how he didn’t even glance toward Olyvar and Lores. However she knew that her husband was well aware of his spy’s movements. She would see the many little birds that her husband had in his pocket around the Red Keep and there have been times when a couple would stop her when they needed to relay something to her husband.

“Good afternoon ladies.” Baelish greeted them smugly and Sansa wondered why he seemed so impressed with himself at that moment. He hardly glanced at Margaery and Myrcella but gave Arya a small smile before turning his gaze directly on Sansa. She felt her face heat up under his penetrating eyes. “I was hoping to borrow my wife for a few moments.”

“No.” Margaery exclaimed. She linked her arm through Sansa’s and held her close. Margaery’s eyes narrowed in mock fury at Baelish. “You have the pleasure of her company all the time and I only get to steal her for a few hours. She is mine Lord Baelish until I deem fit to release her!” If her tone had not been in a joking tone, Sansa knew that Baelish would not have taken kindly being denied access to his wife. Since he knew that Margaery was teasing, he simply gave his future queen a small indulgent laugh.

“What if I promised to return her in perfect condition in a few moments?”

“I do not think that you are capable of returning her without a few marks or two.” Margaery stated and Sansa felt her face go flush. Her jab was at the black and blue love bite Sansa had on her neck, something which she attempted to hide with one of her chokers. She would have succeeded if Margaery hadn’t been setting beside her and felt the need to comment on it. Baelish didn’t respond but instead sported his self-satisfied look upon his face, obviously proud of his mark. Deciding that she would not like to be embarrassed any more, Sansa stood and took her husband’s arm.

“I will be back in a moment.” Sansa stated and began to pull her overly pleased looking husband away from the table. She knew that always found pride when he marked her with his lips, letting the world know that she was his wife and that he was the only man who could touch her.

“Behave!” Sansa heard Arya yell behind him. Baelish turned and looked toward her sister.

“Never!” She heard Arya laugh behind her. While she couldn’t claim that Baelish and Arya were close, they seemed to have an odd sense of humor with each other. Sansa looked over her shoulder and could see Margaery gripping Arya’s hand in laughter. Arya’s face was bright red from laughing hysterically. Even Myrcella, who was always poised and kind, was laughing. Sansa knew that once she returned from her stroll with her husband, she would be teased mercilessly.

“And what was so important that you had to pull me away from my luncheon?” Sansa asked in mock scolding. He led her toward some tall ivy hedges that was formed into a small maze. Sansa had never entered them because she felt as though she would get lost in them. However, Baelish had informed her that they were perfect when it came to holding private conversations. They would be blocked from view and there was always so many people about that it would take some effort to eavesdrop on a conversation.

The maze was rows and rows of tall green bushes and they were covered in different kinds of flowers of all colors; red, blue, pink, yellow. It was beautiful and serene and Sansa could easily get lost among them; it reminded her of those fairytales she loved so long ago. Baelish was silent at first, weaving the two of them deeper into the maze. He looked over his shoulder for a second, to make sure that no one was following them. After a moment he stopped, opened his ledger and pulled out a parchment. He handed it to Sansa, who began to read over its contents. Her eyes widened when her eyes flew over the intricate handwriting. 

“This is a confession!” It was in Lancel’s hand. It was a long detailed confession on how he and another person conspired and succeeded in killing King Robert. The letter then also went on to say how the guilt ate away at him and that the evil act he committed led him to take his own life. Sansa was baffled and completely confused. Her wide shocked eyes met her husband’s. “I don’t understand, how do you have this? Lancel was..” Baelish placed his hand on Sansa’s lips and brought his finger to his lips, signaling her to watch was she was telling him. “What is this?” She whispered.

“That Sweetling is a copy of a forgery.” Baelish whispered in a low voice and took the letter from her hand. “Lancel’s belongings are being searched as we speak and I’ve made sure that a letter identical to this one would be found in his chambers. I’ve also made sure that the knowledge of the existence of the letter would reach the King’s ears.” Baelish moved away from her and toward one of the many torches that lined the hedges. He took the letter and placed it into the flames. The two of them watched it burn, making sure no trace of the letter was left. “I do know several good forgers.”

“Why would Joffrey care if King Robert-?” Sansa paused when she heard a high pitched laughter. She stepped closer to her husband and he wrapped one arm around her waist while he sat the ledger at their feet. He then linked his fingers together behind her back and Sansa wrapped her arms around his shoulders. If anyone would pass them, they would appear to be nothing more than lovers in an embrace. Their conversation continued in whispers “Why would Joffrey care if King Robert had been murdered? He wasn’t his real father and he is aware of this fact. Also the letter indicates a partner but does not name one. It wouldn’t be much use if the King cannot place blame.”

“You wanted to play Joffrey against his mother. Lancel’s death gives us that perfect opportunity. Joffrey looked at King Robert as his father for his entire life until recently. He always sought the man’s approval, learning that he was not the son of Robert’s wouldn’t change that. If anything it would make him more desperate to keep the throne.”

“That doesn’t change..” Baelish silenced her with a kiss. The giggles were back and she allowed her husband to kiss her until she was certain that the others had gone. They broke apart and rested their heads together, in order to make certain that they were alone. “This doesn’t change anything. Joffrey will know that King Robert was murdered but the letter does not name Lancel’s accomplice. How would that break Joffrey from Cersei?”

“Exactly. If Joffrey knows of this letter, he will be ruthless until he uncovers the truth. Cersei, seeing how her son reacted to the news, would do anything to push the issue under the rug and out of sight. Perhaps claiming the letter to be false or attempting to blame someone else. She is distraught about Lancel. All of that will point to guilt when Joffrey learns that his mother helped Lancel murder Robert.” Baelish smirked. “All of which will cause distrust between mother and son; something Margaery will be able to work off of.”

“Still does not explain how Joffrey will learn of Cersei’s involvement.” Baelish gave her a small smile that did not reach his eyes. She knew that he would have thought this through. He never would have proposed an idea unless he thought of every angle and everything that could possibly go wrong. “I assume that you have thought of this as well.”

“There are many ways that Joffrey could hear of the role his mother played, some may not even come from us. What I have thought of is how we would have learned such precious information.” Baelish grinned wider and picked up the ledger, falling completely into his Littlefinger persona. “I have a girl in my employee who serviced Lancel in the past. She knows enough intimate details of our late Lancel to convince even the Queen herself. If Lancel visited her before he died and in a moment of passion confessed to her his involvement with the Queen, well it seemed only fitting that she inform myself.”

“How well will this employee of yours be compensated?” Sansa asked. It was a brilliant plan and it covered their tracks completely. It would cause the necessary divide between mother and son as well as keeping their hands out of the mess. If the knowledge never made its way to the King, Baelish and she would be able to explain how they knew of the truth behind King Robert's death. It wouldn't be pleasant but it would be enough to throw suspicion off of them.

“Very well.” Baelish leered at her and Sansa bit her lip. She wondered if she would be the only wife in all of King's Landing who would be thrilled that her husband had paid a whore. She leaned in and kissed him hard on the lips. He responded and they fought for dominance for a moment. When they broke apart, Sansa looked at him coyly. “Was that a reward for good behavior?”

“No. That was a reward for being naughty.” Sansa giggled and attempted to leave him. However Baelish was not having such behavior. He grabbed her by the waist and wrapped his arm around her. He latched his lips onto her throat and Sansa moaned lightly. She clenched down on her tongue, holding in the desire. She knew that now was not the place to allow her husband to undress her. Anyone could walk by in a second and while the thought would be exhilarating, it also would be scandalous. It appeared that Baelish was thinking along the same lines because he loosened his hold slightly.

“Then I expect such treatment all of the time.” He kissed her on the small of her neck. Sansa giggled at the contact and she could feel the smile on his lips. He started to tickle her sides and Sansa jumped away. She hit his shoulder but could deny the joy she got out of his playful side. She linked her hands with his and they slowly began to make their way out of the maze. They bantered back and forth, laughing with each other as they went.

It didn't last. Sansa stopped in her tracks when the scene in front of her came into vision. It appeared that they were not the only ones making use of the maze. The laughter she had heard when they were deeper in the maze had come from Jeyne Westerling. While it would not be worrisome to hear the girl laugh, what worried her was that she had laughed for her brother. Robb was walking with his arm linked with Jeyne's. They walked around a corner, completely oblivious to the fact that they had been seen.

“He is such a fool.” Sansa stated in complete disbelief. She knew that Jeyne had an interest in her brother but she had hoped that her brother would have more common sense than to allow himself to become close with a woman who was not his bride. Any respect that she may have had for her brother was slowly slipping away. It wasn't the idea that he could be unfaithful to Roslin, but rather who he was being unfaithful with. He had to realize how dangerous an affair with Jeyne Westerling would be.

“I will take care of this.” Baelish promised and Sansa nodded. He grabbed her hand and led her out of the maze. Sansa looked over her shoulder and watched the spot where her brother had disappeared, hoping that her brother would regain his senses and return to Roslin before he ruined not only his life or his family's, but the entire North's as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm back. 
> 
> I wanted to address some reviews I had gotten (they were on older chapters and I cant seem find the actual reviews in order to respond, so I am doing it in a A/N). I noticed that there were some grammatical mistakes which I have attempted to go back and fix. But I everyone to know that this story currently does not have a beta anymore.
> 
> I have gone through 3 betas since this story began. The first dropped out early one due to computer issues, the second had some family issues to deal with and the third was not a Petyr/Sansa shipper and had some issues editing the smut chapters. I am attempting to find a forth but thus far, the search is not going well.
> 
> So I ask that you be patient with me if there are any type of mistakes and please know that I do try and fix the ones I know of. I go over each chapter the best I can but I can't catch everything.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed Petyr's and Sansa's schemes and that my choice of Lancel has made more sense!


	40. Chapter 40

The grey stone had cracks in it. The castle was ancient and Baelish had counted the cracks several times during long and tedious meetings. He had always found the small council meetings painfully dull with equally dull people. He would listen to a vast majority of issues and complaints, some of which he caused and very few had any solutions. He could have easily fixed some of the issues that arose but most of the time, he found that it was in his best interest not to do so. Once the stones fell, Baelish liked to see where they would land. He would sit at the table and listen to the six other members draft ideas that he knew would ultimately fail and was always amused when they did.

He almost missed the days when Robert was king. During those times he could at least find enjoyment out of the members who had seats on the council. While some of those members were scattered around the table Baelish sat at, the new members were ones he would love to be rid of, mainly the spoiled child who ranted and raved and the mother who allowed such behavior from her offspring. Joffrey tapped his fingers against the wooden table and Baelish could count each mark his nails left. He was certain that the boy King's fingers would bleed soon enough; and if he had his way, it wouldn't be just his fingers that bled.

The small council consisted of Cersei, on her son's behalf, Pycelle, Ser Barristan Selmy, Baelish, Varys and Tyrion. Tyrion was acting as Hand of the King but it seemed that he was almost as bored as Baelish. He knew the seriousness of his nephew’s anger and attempted to correct him but Cersei didn’t take kindly to the brother she hated scolding her son. Tyrion remained quiet for a time, only adding a few words here and there when it was important. There was no real reason for the meeting, only to listen to the boy king demand answers that no one wanted to give him. Tyrion was a wise man, Baelish had to admit it. He knew exactly who was behind King Robert’s murder and just like Varys, Tyrion didn’t want to be the man who broke the news. Baelish was willing to do such a thing, but not just yet.

Cersei placed a hand on the blood red robes that her son wore. She was hoping to calm and appease him but Baelish could see through her motherly attempts. She was concerned and Joffrey's treatment of the issue made her scramble. She underestimated his reaction to the news that the man he had called father had been murdered. He knew that Jaime was indeed his true father but it wasn't so easy to simply replace the idea of the man that King Joffrey was raised to idolize.

Cersei never imagined that her son would be devastated to learn what happened the day King Robert's wine was spiked. She had hated her husband so much that it never occurred to her that her children might be hurt by such actions. Baelish could see the panic and fear behind her golden curls and her lion facade. Joffrey's cruelty was widely known but Cersei would never have imagined that his temper would be directed at her, now watching him, Baelish could see that she was not so certain anymore.

“Lord Varys, are you certain you have heard nothing in regards to my father's murder?” Joffrey snapped and glared at the eunuch. King Joffrey rarely attended the small council meetings, far less than his predecessor did. He normally sent his mother in his stead. In the six weeks since he had been crowned he had attended only two meetings; the very first one and the meeting that was currently in progress.

“I have asked all of my informants if they have heard anything murmurs in regards to King Robert and his passing. The news of his murder and Lancel's suicide has come as a great shock to us all.” Varys replied and gave a meaningful look toward Baelish. Lies. All lies. Baelish was certain Varys had heard the same whispers that he had because they shared some of the same contacts.

Joffrey huffed in displeasure and tossed the parchment in the center of the table. Baelish had read it several times, both before and after it was planted in Lancel's belongings. Cersei eyed the parchment with contempt and betrayal. It was clear that she believed that Lancel wrote those words and Baelish had to withhold a smirk, he knew the best forgers in all of King's Landing. It was clear that the Queen was unaware when she was being played.

“Nothing? Nothing at all?” Joffrey barked and Pycelle flinched. It was clear that the decrepit and perverted old man had not been paying attention. It almost amazed even Baelish that Pycelle still remained on the counsel, or was even alive. Then again he was the Queen's most trusted informant and that was the only reason Baelish could see him still functioning in such position.

“Well, there is one interesting fact that I discovered but it wasn't about your father.” Joffrey leaned back and waved his hand, asking Varys to continue. “There is a small boy who sells apples in the alleyways of King's Landing. He told me that he has seen Lancel come and go from a brothel in the city.” Varys stated and all eyes shifted to Baelish. The Master of Coin pursed his lips and cocked his eyebrow at Varys. He was an old friend and one of the very few people who understood how dangerous Baelish was. Baelish had always found their verbal sparring matches enjoyable yet Varys seemed far too interested in his affairs as of late.

“Is this true Lord Baelish?” Cersei asked. He could hear the hurt in her tone, she had obviously thought that she was the only lover Lancel had. It was true of course, once Cersei had taken him to bed, Lancel didn’t frequent his brothel as he had before but that was a fact that the Queen had no need to know. Baelish wondered what bothered her more, the fact that her son might discover her part in King’s Robert’s death or the fact that Lancel bedded another woman. Baelish never understood how a woman such as her could evoke such devotion of not one but two men. “Was my cousin a patron of yours?”

“Almost everyone at this table has been a patron of mine.” His eyes flickered toward Varys and Cersei; the two exceptions. Even Joffrey had inquired after his services, although his tastes were of a peculiar kind. “Lancel was no different. He came to me asking me to supply a girl for him, which I did happily. He saw her on several occasions.” Baelish stated and Varys gave him a contemptuous look. It was clear that Varys was very aware of the half-truths in his statement. Varys wanted to put Baelish into a corner. Tyrion looked between the two of them with an amused look on his face. “Although I have only been back in King’s Landing for almost a week so I cannot tell you the last time he visited my establishment.”

“And you?” Cersei asked, directing her ire to her brother. “Have you seen Lancel during one or your visits? It is no secret that you love your whores.” She spat at him and Tyrion could only grin at her. He picked up the golden goblet and slowly drank his wine. He was on his third glass since the meeting had started.

“I was far too busy to concern myself with other patrons.” Tyrion stated and Cersei huffed. She shook her head at him and the dwarf placed the goblet back down on the wooden table. For a brief second it was as though Tyrion's eyes flickered toward Baelish. The two of them knew Lancel had not been to the brothel in months. “Why are you so concerned with Lancel’s bed partners? One would think you would be angry at him for murdering your husband, not visiting a brothel.” Cersei gave no reply only glared at her brother.

“What does it matter if Lancel was sleeping with whores or not? How would that relate to finding out who helped him murder my father?!” Joffrey exclaimed. He pushed away from the table in anger and began to pace. Baelish could see the murderous glint in his eye and glanced over to Tyrion. He could tell that the dwarf was concerned. The last time Joffrey had been this furious, he'd ordered for all of King Robert’s bastards to be executed and not a single person had been able to stop him.

“When some men bed a woman, they can become…..sentimental afterward. Sometimes they spill their secrets.” Baelish stated with a leer, enjoying the small lesson. Cersei was glaring at him but said nothing. The entire table minus Joffrey, Ser Barristan and Pycelle knew that the Queen had relations with Lancel and they all knew that she would never admit to it. “I can see what this girl knows, if anything at all.” Baelish stated, knowing perfectly well what his whore would say because he had coached her.

He spent hours with the girl whom Lancel had visited no less than six times before his relationship with Cersei began. Baelish learned every sexual position, act and fantasy that Lancel desired. He then coached the whore on the story about Cersei and Lancel plotting to kill the King. Baelish also invented the story of Lancel's depression and self-hatred about the murderous act he had committed as well as having the desire to protect the Queen.

“Good. Find out what she knows and if there is anything to report I want you inform me directly.” Joffrey huffed. He quickly turned on his heels and stormed out of the small council meeting. Cersei glared at Baelish whose features remained passive. She gracefully rose from the table and left the room, her green skirts trailing after her. Ser Barristan and Pycelle followed her out, leaving Baelish alone with Varys and Tyrion.

“You're playing a dangerous game, my friend.” Varys said in a sly tone. He stood from the table and walked around toward the other side. It always amused Baelish how Varys seemed to glide when he walked, it almost made him seem less of a man than he already was. “Tell me, how have you been since you left King's Landing a year ago? I was shocked to hear you married, pity I wasn't invited to the wedding.”

“Marriage does have a certain appeal. I must say I have grown rather fond of my lady wife.” Baelish sneered at Varys. He felt smug when his mind flashed to Sansa. He had heard a few whispers about men who found his wife desirable. It made him proud to hear such things because he was the only one who knew what she was really like in bed. If he didn't respect her as he did, he would have boasted about the fine nectar between her legs.

“Everyone's well aware of your enduring desire for Lord Stark's wife. It's a wonder that you married her sister and then her daughter. I do have to say that your third choice is far more appealing than your second one.” Varys laughed lightly and it had a false air to it. “Is your new young wife enjoying the gift I gave her?”

“If you are referring to Shae, I will say that Sansa is growing very close with her. It's very touching that you would want my wife to have such a dear friend. Should I thank you for such a kind gesture or should be concerned about what goes on in my own chambers?” Baelish stood and looked directly at Varys. He was not pleased to hear that Shae had a close friendship with the Spider. He had half a mind to dismiss the foreign girl but Sansa insisted that she stay and Baelish had difficulty denying his wife anything.

“Spying on you has never been my primary ambition, I promise you.”

“If you had a cock Lord Varys I would ask you to take it out so the two of you can measure and find which one is longer.” Tyrion stated in a bored tone. The dwarf slid off his chair and began to waddle his way out of the chamber. “The two of you can continue this pissing contest without me.” Baelish sneered at Varys and turned to follow Tyrion out. He stayed a few paces away before calling out to him. He watched how the smaller man walked. It was almost as though he had difficulty but Baelish couldn’t be sure if it was due to his short legs or the amount of wine he drank.

“Lord Tyrion.” Tyrion turned at the mention of his name. The dwarf seemed unsurprised at Baelish's intrusion, if anything he appeared to be annoyed. He flexed his small fingers and adjusted the maroon coat that covered his tunic. Tyrion narrowed his dark eyes and looked at Baelish with concern. Ever since their agreement, Tyrion had not spoken or associated with either Lord or Lady Baelish. He had no need for them and he assumed they felt the same way. “I heard that congratulations are in order. For your brother anyway.” It wasn’t public knowledge but the news of Jaime Lannister’s engagement had reached the ears of some of Baelish’s informants.

“Yes. I am to gain a new sister.” Tyrion stated, wondering exactly what the Master of Coin was indicating. Tywin was still at Casterly Rock and would be for the next few weeks, not much time but enough for Tyrion to accomplish the few things he was hoping to achieve. He just needed people to stay out of his way. If everything went according to plan, Bronn would be in charge of the King’s Guard and they would all belong to Tyrion. There was also the small matter of Dorne and the damage Tywin caused when King Robert to the throne; killing Elia Martell and her children. If Dorne could trust the Lannisters again, perhaps the power that he could slowly feel slipping away could be regained.

“And how is the Queen taking such news? I’m sure she will be thrilled to have a young lady under her wing. She does know Casterly Rock after all.” Baelish taunted. They both knew that Cersei, with her long gold hair and stunning beauty, was not taking Jaime’s engagement well. She may have been bedding Lancel, but Baelish wondered if her thoughts were with her twin brother the entire time. Tyrion laughed a hollow and deep laugh. He wouldn’t lie and say that he didn’t enjoy his sister’s misery.

The last couple of years had strained their relationship. Cersei had attempted to have Shae deported from Kings Landing. However, seeing that the news of Jaime and Cersei’s affair had just come to light to their father, it was the one and only time in living memory that Tywin chose his dwarf son over the favored twins. While Tywin was less than pleased that Tyrion was involved with another whore, it was a far better option than an incestuous relationship between the twins. He allowed Shae to stay in the capitol and Jaime was banished to Casterly Rock. Now, Tywin was attempting to marry his eldest son off in order to continue the Lannister blood line and to keep the twins apart.

“Cersei has certainly had some recent personal blows lately. The idea that our brother will be joined in matrimony hasn’t really sunk in yet. Although, I have noticed some hostile reactions toward the bride.” Tyrion stated. He crossed his small arms and looked up at the taller man. It was rare that Baelish towered over someone who wasn’t a child or a woman. He had always found his height useful when his opponents underestimated him but he couldn’t deny the rush he got from being taller than someone.

“Jeyne Westerling is a sweet girl. Beautiful too.” When he learned of Tywin arranging the marriage between Jeyne and Jaime, Baelish was extremely pleased. He knew that a women such as Sybell Westerling wouldn’t bed a man unless there was a purpose. Having her favorite daughter become the wife to the heir of Casterly Rock would cause any vain and greedy mother to do just about anything. He almost had to admire her; she was using the Lannister’s vulnerability and desperation to forward her own agenda. If she wasn’t bedding one of the people who Baelish wanted removed from power, he could have seen Sybell being a good friend to Baelish and Sansa. “I’m curious how Jaime but most importantly your father would react to the news that Jeyne might not be pure on her wedding night. It would be devastating to learn that a child born to her may not be her husband’s.”

“What are you saying?” Tyrion asked. His face constricted in concertation. He shifted his feet against the stone floor. The idea of Jeyne not being pure was something that he knew his father never would have considered. Jeyne was chosen for the simple fact that she would be easy to control. Sybell made sure exactly who her daughter associated with and that no suitor had come calling on her. The Westerlings had been a small and poor noble house for at least a hundred years. Now with Westeros being in almost complete financial ruin, Sybell was using that opportunity to elevate her family’s status.

“I’m saying that her mother should be concerned with whom her daughter is spending her time with. Perhaps keep a closer eye on her. Guard her if you will.” Baelish stated in a firm tone. It was important that Jeyne be separated from Robb. Sybell would not take kindly to her daughter being ruined and the chance of Jeyne becoming mistress of Casterly Rock to slip through her fingers. If Robb really needed to release some tension and his own bride would not do, Baelish would be more than willing to allow him use of some of his girls. He may even be able to acquire one who bore a similar resemblance to Jeyne if he was so inclined.

“And why are you informing me of this?”

“Because you are acting as Hand of the King. You have pull with Sybell and it would be beneficial to your family if Jeyne remained pure for her husband.” Baelish’s voice was low and cunning. It was the tone he used when he was manipulating and scheming. He knew that Tyrion wasn’t an easy man to control but he would do his best to make sure that Tyrion saw eye to eye with him. Figuratively of course. “It would be in both of our interests if Jeyne remained under lock and key until she is safely in Casterly Rock.” Or until the Starks left King’s Landing; Baelish wasn’t picky.

“I thought we agreed to keep each other out of our schemes? Breaking the deal already? That’s a bit fast, even or you.” Tyrion said laughing. He had no illusions that Baelish was a man of his word, having broken so many promises in the past, however, he had not expected for him to go turn his back so quickly. He had hoped that his child bride would have had a tighter hold on him. The Sansa he had known back in Winterfell was a bright eyed child who was as honorable as the Stark name. Tyrion was surprised to see the vindictive and cold creature that Baelish married. Another thing he would have to thank Joffrey for.

“Is it really going back on our deal if what I am proposing is in both of our interests?”

“Fair point.” Tyrion stated and took a few steps toward Baelish. He crooked his finger and the mockingbird bent down to the lion. “If you can keep the young wolf’s teeth out of Jeyne, I will make sure that her mother knows of her daughter’s whereabouts.” Tyrion stated. “Tell Robb congratulations and that he is a lucky man. Roslin Frey is a woman of many qualities. I’m sure he will be very happy with her.” 

Tyrion gave a small chuckle before he turned and waddled away. Baelish stared after him and wondered what exactly the dwarf had up his sleeve. He knew that Tyrion wasn’t one to go back on his word and that whatever he was planning didn’t directly involve himself or his wife. He had no use for Tyrion at this point so he was more than happy to allow the little man have his victory for the moment. As long as Tyrion stayed out of his way, Baelish would have no need to out maneuver him in some way.

“Lord Baelish.” Baelish turned and saw Olyvar walking briskly toward him. The young man’s blond hair was slick back and his bright blue robes shone on him. He was beautiful and he was by far one of Baelish’s best earners. He was also willing to do just about anything that was asked of him as long as it came with a pretty prize. Ros was not an overly big fan of his but the two of them worked well together. He had uses for Olyvar that Ros could not fulfill and it was a relatively simple decision to promote the boy.

“What is it?” Baelish asked, his grey-green eyes looking around. It would not do well for the wrong set of eyes to see them together. Only few people knew that Olyvar worked out of Baelish’s brothel but most knew him as Loras’s squire. He assumed that the Tyrells knew that Olyvar was also Loras’s new lover. It would not do well for the Tyrell’s to think that Baelish had someone feeding him information on them.

“There is news from the North. I heard Lady Olenna discussing it with Lores. It will be all over King’s Landing soon but I thought you should hear of it before then, for your wife’s sake.” Olyvar looked around and leaned in. “Lord Commander Jon Snow has abandoned his post. He hasn’t been seen in days and there is no hint of him anywhere. They are labeling him a deserter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thanks to my new beta Cris! She is proving to be such a big help already!


	41. Chapter 41

The candles flickered as they hung from iron chandeliers, adding a distinguished touch to what was by far the most lavish wedding Sansa had ever seen. The feast was held in the Queen's Ballroom and was one of the largest in the Red Keep. It seated close to one hundred people but there were not that many guests in attendance. Most of the high lords who pledged their loyalty left King's Landing in order to head back to their own homes.

The Queen's Ballroom was decorated beyond any extravagance she could have imagined. It was almost as though everything dripped with diamonds and rubies. The goblets were made of pure gold and the food all but melted in her mouth. Banners and tapestries hung on the walls and it almost made her laugh that the direwolf sigil and the twin towers sigil mixed together throughout the ballroom. The drunker of the guests exclaimed that the two mixed well together. The news of the Lord Commanders desertion and Lancel’s suicide were the topics of all conversation.

Yet, while it was a wedding for a Stark, Sansa couldn't help but notice some of the smaller things. The tablecloths were a deep blood red as were some of the streamers dangling from chandelier to chandelier. While the Stark and Frey banners hung on the stone walls, this was a wedding for a lion. The rational side of Sansa knew that the cloths and streamers were leftovers from what should have been Joffrey's and Margaery’s wedding but she couldn't help but feel slighted for her brother. Robb deserved a wedding befitting the heir of Winterfell, not one that had been discarded by the King. It appeared however that she was in the minority to think so. Those around her were laughing, drinking and dancing. The music that played was fast and exhilarating. She couldn't deny that the atmosphere was intoxicating. There was a haze over every member of the party and Sansa attributed it to the free flowing wine. 

She moved slowly amongst the crowd, gazing at those she passed. She had spent the majority of the wedding feast with Margaery and Myrcella. Arya had disappeared hours before and Sansa could only assume a certain sword was with her. Her husband was speaking in hushed tones with Lord Tyrion. Gods only knew what mischief those two were getting up to.

Sansa turned and looked toward the high table. It was by far the grandest in the entire room. It was long and elegant with an assortment of food, candles and decorations that matched the splendor of the entire ballroom. Roslin looked beautiful, as Sansa knew she would. Her gown was ivory and her hair was piled high with pearls scattered throughout. The Stark cloak still hung off her shoulders. Robb was dressed elegantly in dark robes that rose high on his neck with a direwolf clasp on the front holding the ensemble together. His hair was tamed and pulled away from his face. He looked handsome and Sansa was proud of him for not going back on his word, but she couldn't help but notice how distant the bride and groomed seemed. Their bodies were angled away from each other and they were both deep in conversation with other people instead of each other. Robb was in what looked like a serious discussion with Ned while Roslin spoke softly with Edmure. Neither paid much attention to the other. Sansa remembered her own wedding and how their hands remained linked during the feast, the barbs they shared and the teasing moments between them but there seemed to be none of that between Roslin and Robb.

She tore her eyes from the wedding party and let them linger over the guests. Everyone seemed to be laughing and drinking. Groups of people were gathered about and laughter filled the air. It seemed that everyone was in the company of another person, except for one. Sansa looked up and saw Jeyne standing alone on one of the balconies. Even from a fair distance away her stunning appearance couldn’t detract from the distraught look upon her face. She also couldn’t help noticing the guard that stood a ways back watching her every move.

Sansa strolled through the crowd smiling and laughing with other guest but her ice blue eyes always traveled toward that balcony that Jeyne never moved from. After a time and half a glass of wine, Sansa slowly made her way up the stairs, holding her deep blue skirts in her hand as she went. Once she reached the top, she let the skirt go and glided toward Jeyne, her hands trailing along the wooden railing. She looked down into the crowd and caught Baelish's eyes. He wore that incredibly proud leer on his lips. Sansa walked around Jeyne and stood next to her, only inches apart.

“The bride is beautiful, isn't she?” Sansa asked in a cheerful voice. “I wish I would have thought to use pearls in my hair when I was married. She is such a dear girl and I couldn't ask for a better woman for my brother to marry.” Jeyne said nothing but Sansa could see her shoulders tense in her gold dress. “I do not believe that we have been formally introduced. I'm Lady Sansa Baelish.” Sansa held out her hand but Jeyne didn't take it.

“I know who you are.” Jeyne stated in a flat, dead tone. Her eyes were hollow and lifeless as though there was nothing behind them. Sansa would have felt sorry for her if she weren’t the woman who could ruin everything. Robb married Roslin but that didn't mean he would completely stay away from Jeyne. She still posed a danger. Jeyne slumped against the railings. “Your brother has told me about you.”

“All good things I hope.” Sansa teased but Jeyne just looked at her with a vacant expression before turning back to the joyful crowd. It appeared that the last thing Jeyne wanted was to make small talk with Sansa. However, there was something she needed to make perfectly clear. “I hear congratulations are in order. Jaime Lannister is a catch. Any woman would be lucky to call herself his wife.” When Baelish had informed her that Jeyne was betrothed to the Kingslayer, it made Sansa both relieved and nervous all at the same time. The pit of her stomach knotted at the thought. “Any thoughts for your wedding?”

“No.”

“I'm sure you've thought of something? Will it be here or at Casterly Rock? Have you met Jaime Lannister? I have. He is very handsome if you were curious. Golden hair. Green eyes. Looks like King Joffrey almost.” Jeyne winced at that and Sansa realized that she was indeed aware of Joffrey's true parentage. “He has a far kinder and braver manner about him of course.”

“What do you want?” Jeyne turned and crossed her arms. Her brown eyes narrowed and she drew herself to her full height. She was still shorter than Sansa but it didn't seem to faze her. Sansa could do just about anything and it appeared that Jeyne wouldn't care in the slightest. “I would like to be alone.”

“There are many things I want.” Sansa stated. “I want some more wine. I want to go to sleep tonight in my husband’s arms after I’ve fucked him. I want Harrenhal to be completed so I can raise my children there. I want to go to the Riverlands and never look upon King's Landing again. I want King Robert to be alive. I want my brother to be alive. I want my innocence back.” She stepped forward and peered down at Jeyne with a menacing glare. “But most of all, I want you to stay away from my brother.”

Jeyne was silent and unmoving. This wasn't a girl who would be easily bullied but she wasn't strong either. Sansa could see some of her old self in her; a naive girl who still believed that the world was full of fairytales. Jeyne had believed that there would be a way that Robb would never marry Roslin. She had dreamed that the two of them would ride off into the sunset. When Robb had indeed married Roslin, it had crushed her.

“He doesn't love her.” Jeyne huffed in frustration, crossing her arms.

“Love? Love?” Sansa let out a cynical cackle. “You think this is about love?” She started to laugh almost hysterically. “Love... Love will only bring you pain. It will rip out your insides and claw you to pieces. You think my brother loves you? He has known you for a week and a week is not long enough to love someone.” Sansa said with heated passion. She had thought she loved Joffrey and he brutalized her in ways that she never could have imagined.

Sansa's thoughts flickered to her husband but she shut down those emotions like she had done hundreds of times. They never said the words and she knew that they never would. Neither of them could; they were far too damaged to do so. They built a life together and she knew that he would kill for her, just as she would for him. She felt whole when she was with Baelish and that was something far deeper than anything she ever felt for Joffrey. Baelish was Sansa's other half and she would do anything for him; but she would never tell him she loved him. What they had was far deeper and darker than any emotion that could be expressed aloud.

“Does Robb know how bitter you have become?” Jeyne asked. “He told me you know, what the King did to you, not that it matters, everyone already knew. I'm so sorry that King Joffrey has ruined you so completely. I'm sorry that he has turned you into this shell of a person. Robb is broken up about it. He hates himself and wishes there was something he could have done. He wants to save you like a big brother should. I don't think he realizes how beyond saving you are.” Jeyne looked down at the high table again. She smiled and her fingertips touched her pale pink lips. “I love him.”

“Love isn't the thing he wants from you. What he wants is between your legs.” Sansa snapped furiously. An angry burning sensation coursed through her as Jeyne's words took hold. This girl pitied her and that was something Sansa couldn't allow. She didn't want anyone’s pity, especially not hers. “This is what is going to happen. You will leave my brother and his new wife alone. They will return to the North and you will go to the Westerlands and become Jaime Lannisters's wife. You will bear his children and Roslin will bear Robb's. You will live your lives and move on.” Jeyne was silent for a moment and for a second she seemed defeated.

“Go back to your husband Lady Baelish. The two of you really are perfect for one another. At least you found happiness in that.” Jeyne turned away from her and walked toward the ever present guard. “I would like to return to my chambers now.” The guard nodded and the two of them walked down the darkened corridor with Sansa watching them as they went. She tried and failed to convince Jeyne to stay away. She knew she wouldn't. If someone had tried to convince Sansa to stay away from Joffrey all those years ago, she wouldn't have listened. Sansa had only wished to spare her the tragedy of what would happen if she continued on with her brother. She could only hope that her family left King's Landing soon; even if it meant taking Arya with them.

“Well the two of you will never be friends.” A sly voice came from a few paces away. Sansa turned and saw Lord Varys peering at her. He didn't appear to be devious or hostile. If anything he just seemed curious about her. The way his eyes trailed over her, it was as though he was studying her; taking her in completely. “When I heard my dear friend had married, I assumed that he would be bringing a simpering child bride to court but instead he returned with an equal. It pleases me to see you so well suited.” Sansa was still feeling defensive and narrowed her eyes. “That was meant to be a compliment.”

“Should I find it reassuring that you care so much for my husband’s happiness?” she asked, finding the bald man’s concern humorous. The very few things she had seen of Varys thus far only pointed to the fact that he was attempting to challenge Baelish. Her body tingled with the sensation that she should not trust the man. However, Sansa had to acknowledge the fact that she hardly trusted herself, let alone anyone else. “Strange that if you are so concerned with my husband’s happiness, you would try and defy him as you are.”

“Actually, I rather enjoy him.” Varys chuckled lightly. He stepped forward, his hands still locked together under his lavender sleeves. His robe was long and flowing against the stone floor. Sansa saw that he had a feminine air about him, which she could only attribute to the fact that he no longer had the appendages that made a man. “I hear that you are settling in well at the Red Keep, making friends left and right.”

“You mean Shae reported that I’m making friends and who they are.” Sansa replied. She had quickly grown to adore Shae. She was competent in her duties and the foreign woman always seemed concerned with Sansa’s wellbeing. “What I don’t understand is why you put Tyrion’s lover as my handmaiden in order to spy on us.”

“Shae isn’t there to spy on you, that I can promise you.” Sansa gave a disbelieving huff. She saw enemies around every corner in King’s Landing and Varys was no different. Baelish had told her tales of the two of them outmaneuvering each other and the little games they liked to play. She could understand that Varys was the closest thing Baelish had to a friend but that didn’t make him trustworthy. “I was expecting a child bride, I wasn’t expecting the woman you have become and that saddens me. You should have had the world at your feet, not living this life. But I guess we all have scars in our past.”

“Why does my past interest you? What game are you playing Lord Varys?” Sansa asked. His soft words and pity made no sense to her. She hated the idea that both Jeyne and Varys seemed to pity her. While she would do anything to have her innocence back, she never wanted to go back to the narrow minded child she had been. Having such a soft heart in the dark and decrepit world they lived in was beyond foolish.

“I’m not your enemy Lady Baelish, nor your husband’s. The sooner the two of you realize that, the easier it will be, because one day we will be on the same side.” Varys stated and began to walk away from her. “Use Shae. She is more valuable than you realize. I placed her into your service in order for you to use, not to spy on you.”

“What of Lord Tyrion? She is obviously involved with him.” Sansa rebutted. How exactly could she trust someone who spent her free time on a regular basis in the bed of a lion? She liked her and enjoyed her company but Sansa could never find it in her to really reveal any type of secrets to her. Baelish didn’t like her in the slightest. He scowled anytime he would come back to the chambers and see her there. Of course she made herself scarce when he was home, due to how physical Sansa and Baelish were with each other as well as the fact that he treated her as though she was a statue in their home. He was never openly rude to her because he knew it would upset Sansa but he never went out of his way to be kind to her either.

“What occurs between the two of them when they are alone, I cannot say.” Varys replied and Sansa glared at him. Varys was the Spider and knew everything that occurred in King’s Landing. If he couldn’t tell her how often Shae and Tyrion spent the night together, then he was not doing his job properly. Baelish knew that Varys had arranged the secret visits for Tyrion and Shae when Shae had been hiding at one of the few brothels Baelish did not own; a fact that Varys knew very well. “However, it appears that things are not as rosy between those two love birds as they once were.”

Sansa turned her head and looked down to the crowd. There was laughter and cheering; drunken theories on where the Lord Commander had escaped to and whether he would be caught. When Ned heard the news that the boy he raised as his own abandoned his post, he said nothing. His lips remained sealed whenever the topic arose. He was even pulled in for questioning by the small council to see what he knew. He simply replied that they had a disagreement a few weeks back and since then, Jon had not been in contact. 

Varys sighed and begrudgingly strolled over to the railing that Sansa leaned against. Her eyes never left her father and her insides twisted. Ned never looked at her the same and that devastated her. It wasn't that he was ashamed of her but more that he was ashamed of himself. He had failed to protect her as a father should. While she was suffering and screaming, he was inside Winterfell drinking wine with the King. She wished that he never learned the truth. 

“And what of my father? What use was it to tell him that I seduced King Joffrey?” Sansa asked defeated. She was weary and the small bit of wine she drank in celebration of her brother's wedding was leaving her. Sansa knew that she was becoming cold hearted and with each passing day in King's Landing, she could feel herself harden more. Yet, she still cared for her family. She wanted Robb to be happy in his marriage and she wanted Arya to be able to be that wild child she had once been. She wanted her father to look at her the way he had when he thought she was the pure lady she had once been. She wanted to hear her mother laugh and see Rickon horseback ride again. 

Sansa wanted to speak to Bran one last time.

“Lord Stark is Warden of the North and the best friend of the late King. Does your father not deserve to know what type of King he is now bowing to?” Sansa frowned but didn't say anything, allowing Varys to continue to speak. “Your father hates the Lannisters almost as much as you do. He would never defy them of course but it is always best to know who your allies could be when things turn south.” 

“Could you be any more cryptic?” Sansa snapped and Varys laughed at her in pure joy. He could see the difference between Baelish and Sansa. Baelish was talented at the dance of verbal sparing, however, his wife was far more blunt when she needed to be. He could tell that she could manipulate and save face with the best of the big players at court but there was a deadly edge to her that even Margaery didn't have. It put a dose of fear in him at the thought of her being in Baelish's hands.

“I can be.” He chuckled again. “I'm the master of whisperers and I hear many things, some good and some of the most terrifying. Those in power think that they are untouchable and that they will never fall from grace. Yet, I served under Aerys Targaryen and I know just how far a powerful man can fall.” He stood behind her and pointed lightly. Joffrey stood with Margaery by his side. He demanded the crowd part, causing a wide circle amongst the people. Tommen stood behind him with a look of pure loathing on his features. Myrcella whispered something in Tommen's ear, appearing to stop him from lunging at his brother, but only slightly. “Do you honestly think a King like that, one whose own siblings hate him, will be in power forever?”

“Not if I have any say in the matter.” Sansa replied with a scowl on her lips. The desire to end Joffrey's life grew stronger and stronger as each day passed. She wanted nothing more than to take her long fingers and wrap them around his royal neck. Sansa would squeeze until he could no longer breathe and his limbs would go limp. Whenever she looked at him, she found herself day dreaming about it more and more vividly.

“There are many people surrounding the King who want the same as you and others who would do anything to see that our cruel King remains in power.” Joffrey laughed as a fool was dragged to him and forced onto his knees. Meryn Trant stood over the fool, tall and proud, raising what appeared to be a wooden club and brought it down swiftly against the fool. “The fool wrote a song about the King, calling him a bastard and his mother a whore.” 

“He is going to kill him.” 

The music stopped when the screaming started. Harder and harder Meryn Trant beat the fool. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her father and her brother stand at the high table but none stopped him. No one could. Joffrey was the King and could brutalize whomever he pleased. Joffrey clapped and laughed, urging his guard to beat him harder.

“Oh yes. Possibly rip out his tongue first and then feed it to him. That is his usual torment for fools who sing awful songs. He really enjoys watching what it takes to viciously pummel a man to death, I'm sure you've heard about the servant he beat to death. The crossbow is another favorite.” They called Aerys Targaryen the Mad King but Joffrey had to be far worse than him. Westeros revolted against Aerys for far less. “Look around. See the faces of the court. This is how you will know who your enemies really are.” 

For the first and possibly last time, Sansa obeyed Varys. She tore her eyes aways from the monstrous scene playing out as though it was on a stage and looked at its audience. Margaery stood behind Joffrey and the horror was obvious on her face. Tommen linked his hand with her's as Myrcella wrapped her arms around Joffrey's bride. Cersei had her backed turned, appearing as though the fools murder was not happening at all. Tyrion stood by with a furious look on his face. Her husband stood by and appeared impassive. 

Yet, Sansa knew exactly where those players stood. She searched the faces of the lesser known players. Some of the women had tears running down their faces while others just appeared petrified at what they were witnessing. The men appeared harder, shielding their daughter's and wives. However, it was those that simply turned away or ignored the fool's screams that Sansa made note of. Soon the screaming stopped and all that was left was a bloody corpse, gracing the ballroom floor.

“And this is my gift to you Lord Robb Stark.” Joffrey announced as he flickered his hand towards the corpse. “Congratulations on your most happy day.” Silence hung in the air. No one dared to speak or move as the body just lay there, covered in his own blood. “I'm sure it is a day that you will always remember.”


	42. Chapter 42

It was almost as though a silent fog was descended the entirety of the Red Keep. Hushed congratulations were given to the newlywed couple but even Robb and Roslin didn't want to hear them. No one spoke of the wedding, fearing as though bad luck would follow them. No one talked about the fool or what he had done to deserve such treatment. They only spoke of his violent death and how he screamed as he died. Those scream still haunted the red stone that made up the castle. 

Some said that the death of King Robert was just the beginning of the end of days. The knowledge of his murder and everything that followed caused a ripple effect. Stannis treason and execution only be followed by Lancel's 'suicide' and 'confession' added to the rumors and stories that flew down the red halls. Theories about the Lord Commander and his disappearance faded into nothing once the fool gave his last cry. 

The morning after the wedding and the bedding ceremony, Roslin emerged with tears in her eyes. Sansa saw her and simple took her into her arms, holding close. The new bride broke down in his arms and Sansa asked if her brother had been cruel to his new wife. Roslin swore that he was nothing but gentle and sweet but it wasn't her he was thinking of. He whispered Jeyne's name as he spilled his seed inside of her. Yet, it wasn't even him dreaming of another woman that tore at her heart but rather the fact that Robb wasn't the man she wanted to give her maidenhead to. Roslin wouldn't name him but Sansa could only guess whom her new sister dreamed of on her wedding night. 

Once Sansa was able to leave the despondent bride, she took a stroll through the halls of the Red Keep. Lady trotted faithfully by her side as Shae lingered beside her. Her mind was traveling a thousand miles with each passing step. Seeing Roslin's tears caused Sansa to have second thoughts about the arrangement between Robb and the Freys. Sansa had been concerned that Robb would do something foolish but Baelish promised that one way or another Robb would be at that alter and that Jeyne would be kept under lock and key. 

Baelish had kept his word, as he always did when it came to his wife. Everywhere Jeyne went, a guard followed. A few choice words in Ned's ear had him preaching about duty, honor and the Stark name. They all knew that the last thing Robb wanted was to disappoint his father and fail in his duty as the heir to Winterfell. While she wanted her brother to be happy, she and Baelish needed the North to prosper, which could only be achieved with it reclaiming its financial security. Roslin along with her brother Stevron offered that. 

Her moments of doubt could never outweigh what she knew she would gain from their conspiracies. Everyone had a part to play and she needed to continue to remind herself of that. She turned her head slightly to Shae, who remained silent during the entire stroll. Sansa wondered if Shae could be trusted. Varys might have assured her that the exotic handmaid wasn't planted as a spy but she was unclear on how much Varys could be trusted no matter how much he vowed that he was not their enemy and that in many ways, they were after a common goal. Sansa had never directly asked Shae about Tyrion but beneath her beautiful face, Sansa could see a pain etched into her large dark eyes. 

In a flash of insight Sansa realized that Shae wasn't sent to her in order to report the on goings between her and her husband. Instead she was placed with Sansa to cause the handmaiden to question who her loyalty belonged to. Varys wanted Tyrion and Shae separated but the question was why? Shae was obviously Tyrion's weakness but what would Varys gain from having Shae removed? 

The scheming and plotting was exhausting. The aftermath of Robb's wedding caused her body to ache and her stomach to churn. The fear that Joffrey instilled inside of her caused her to be far more nauseous than she had ever been. King's Landing was eating away at her and it was slowly becoming obvious to Shae and Baelish. They worried for her but knew that she was made for the cold and the ice. She was a daughter of the North and she refused to allow the southern heat melt her. 

“Lady Baelish.” A soulless tone graced her ears and Shae placed her hand on Sansa's forearm. The two women turned to see the King of the Seven Kingdoms strutting toward them with an evil leer playing on his lips. Meryn Trant was faithfully by his side as though Joffrey owned him. Out of reflex, Sansa felt herself give him a curtsy. Lady growled lightly, recognizing the two men's scent. “I was hoping to have a word with you....without the wolf.” Joffrey's cold eyes showed fear as they fell upon Lady. Every inch of her being wanted to refuse the King's request but she knew that she couldn't. “I'll have her killed if you don't send her away. You know I will.”

“Lady. Go.” Sansa commanded and the wolf backed away, obeying her master. Lady's hair remained standing on end as she slowly left her master. Once the wolf was gone and out of sight, Joffrey reached out and traced his finger down her collarbone. Sansa wanted nothing more than to bat his hand away but she knew that it would be unwise to do so. “What can I do for you, Your Grace?” 

“I held a small council meeting two days ago where I gave your husband an assignment. I have not heard anything as of yet. I'm growing impatient.” Joffrey said in a haunting tone. Two days was hardly enough time to complete anything, really. She knew what Joffrey was after and while the girl had been prepped, it still took some time to make her story completely believable. Baelish was currently at his brothel preparing the girl for questioning. 

“My husband is looking into what you asked of him as we speak. I'm sure that he will have something to report soon.” Sansa replied in a diplomatic tone. Her eyes traveled to Meryn Trant who was sporting a nasty grin on his plump lips. Sansa felt a shiver travel through her body as she watched him flex his hands. The memory of them wrapping themselves around her neck caused her to force herself to hold back tears. “I will relay to him that you are inquiring after him Your Grace.” 

“So Lord Baelish has informed you of what he is doing. Fool. Once should never burden a woman with a man's business.” Joffrey's fingers touched his lips and his eyes roamed the length of her body. It was a gift to know that, while he had forced his way inside of her, he had never seen her naked. He could imagine all he wanted but it was something she would never allow to happen. She would kill him first; plunge her dagger directly into his royal neck. “Tell me, how does it feel to know that once he leaves your bed, your husband goes to his whores?” 

“My husband had always been honest with me about everything and I know exactly what he does with his whores.” The answer to that question was nothing. Baelish never touched any of the girls he owned and she believed him. However the King had no need to know that Baelish was slowly training her how to run a brothel. He had taken her to the whorehouse two other times since their meeting with Lord Tyrion and she was beginning to understand why men found pleasure in such places.

Hearing the sounds of men and women claiming each other in the most primal of ways was intoxicating. The brothel had several small holes that allowed Baelish to ensure that his girls were doing what he bought them to do. Baelish had taken her to each and every one of those little peepholes and they watched couples do the most sinful of acts. Watching such things made her burn and her husband was always willing to accommodate her desires. They had taken each other in all manner of perversions in every part of the brothel that they could find. 

“And how does your husband feel about the fact that I had you first?” Joffrey asked, reaching out and tracing her curves over her dress. His fingertips lingered over her breasts and she forced herself to repress the bile that was threatening to make its way up her throat. Shae squeezed her hand in comfort but did nothing else. Crossing the king in any regard was very dangerous. “Or perhaps that is why he married you. You spread your legs so easily that you are nothing more than a common whore.” 

“Lord Baelish married me for many reason, just as I married him. If I had to compare, I would have to say that my husband is more than satisfied in that regard.” Sansa stated, knowing perfectly that her words would be an insult to him. She knew that his ire would be unpleasant for her but it was necessary. She couldn't tell him everything at once if she wanted it to be believable. Joffrey needed to believe that he forced the information out of her. “If you will excuse me Your Grace, I will pass your request off to my husband.”

Sansa made a move to pass him but Joffrey's hand reached out and stopped her. She froze, not allowing herself to shake from the feeling of his bare hands on her skin. The thought of him being anywhere near caused her heart to speed up and her reflexes told her to run. Yet, she was rooted on the spot, looking directly at the man who caused her so many nightmares. Gathering all of her courage, Sansa turned her ice cold eyes to glare directly into his. When he raped her, Joffrey had refused to look at her but in that moment, she refused to allow him to look away. 

“He told you. Your husband must enjoy you often if he spills his secrets so easily.” Neither of them looked away. It was a battle of wills and Sansa knew that she could win. Her open defiance caused him to bulk slightly. This was not the young girl whose innocence he stole but instead before him stood a dark and harden women that he helped create. “What has he told you?” 

“Nothing Your Grace. I'm nothing more than a stupid whore.” She bit at him and clenched her teeth. Joffrey gave a half laugh and looked her over one last time. His hands let her go and Sansa began to move away. For a brief second she felt herself relax, hoping to put some distance between herself and the King but she couldn't be that lucky.

“Ser Meryn.” 

Suddenly Sansa felt herself being thrown backwards and her back hit the stone wall. Her head hit the stone and before she was able to catch her breath, Ser Meryn Trant was standing in front of her. Shae screeched and Sansa could see that Joffrey was holding her back as she attempted to get to her mistress. Meryn Trant locked his plump fingers around her neck and began to squeeze. Sansa's hands went directly to his wrists, hoping to full his fingers from her throat. 

She felt herself gasping for air as her fingers dug into the guard's skin. He lifted her easily so that her feet were dangling, attempting to touch the ground. She could hear herself wheezing but his fingers grew tighter and tighter around her throat. It was as though the harder she pulled at his hands, the stronger he grew. Her eyes looked directly at the guard who almost seem aroused from psychically abusing her. 

Her mind flashed to Winterfell's Godswood and how the freshly fallen snow had felt against her skin. The air was extremely hot but Sansa felt as though ice had engulfing her. She began to relive that moment so vividly. She could see the darkened sky that released the snow and she could feel the harsh breeze rush against her thighs. When Joffrey threw Shae to the ground and stepped beside Meryn Trant and Sansa, he pushed a stray hair behind her ear. 

“I want you to tell me everything you know. If you do not, well... I'll make sure the child you bear will not be your husband's.” Joffrey whispered in her ear as his guard continued to squeeze. The prince placed his hand on her stomach as though he was caressing her. “You would like that wouldn't you. I bet you were disappointed when you were not with child when I left you in Winterfell. Let her go.” 

Meryn Trant released her and Sansa fell onto the stone ground, landing on her hands and knees. The air filled her lungs sharply, causing her throat to throb in pain. Her fingers reached up and attempted to touch her throat but it was far too bruised for even the lightest contact. Shae reached for her but Joffrey pushed her away, causing her to fall against the stone. Meryn Trant reached down and grabbed Sansa by the shoulders. He lifted her up and placed her feet on the ground. 

“Tell me. Who helped Lancel murder my father?” Joffrey asked and Sansa remained silent. “Nothing to say? Hit her.” Meryn Trant raised his fists and struck the right side of her face and then the left side for good measure. The blows caused a thumping pain on her cheekbones and she knew that by morning they would be bruised. “Want to speak now?” Sansa coughed lightly and could taste blood pooling in her mouth. 

“You won't like the answer.” Sansa stated and her voice was hoarse; she could hardly recognize it. She sounded like the homeless men who drank themselves into a stupor. She touched her face and hissed. Once she touched the forming bruise, it caused a searing pain to race through the entire side of her face. “My husband is hesitant to tell you because....because what he learned is treason. He is worried you won't believe it and punish him.” Joffrey stepped forward and placed his finger under her chin. He gently pushed her head up to look at him. It was a gesture he was fond of doing when they first were betrothed to one another. It was the look and gesture of the monster she had fallen in love with. 

“Whatever you tell me, I will cause you and your husband no harm because of it.” Joffrey promised and Sansa didn't believe him. Everything that that left his perfectly shaped lips was a lie. He could whisper the most beautiful of tales to her and Sansa knew that it would never be the truth. Everything his promised would turn to ash if she dared even hoped for it to become true. She learned that lesson in the cruelest way possible. “Who helped murder my father?”

“Your mother.” Her voice cracked and the sharp pain seared again. Joffrey's features remained blank as her looked at her. It was as though she was being strangled again because all the air seemed to have evaporated from the corridor. Shae who had seemed to have been forgotten was able to wrap her arms around her mistress, reminding her distantly of another's presence. 

“You're lying.” 

“Why would I lie about something like that? What would I have to gain?” Sansa stated as she leaned into Shae. Her legs felt weak and she wanted to collapse against her. “Your mother and Lancel were having an affair. Lancel hadn't been to the brothel in months, not since my husband was here last. They conspired together to kill the King in order to be together.” 

“I don't believe you.” Joffrey hissed through clenched teeth. His fingers weaved through his perfect golden hair as though he was trying to pull them from the roots. His eyes burned with fury but it wasn't exactly directed at her, which made Sansa realize that he was thinking. Joffrey had never been the brightest of men but in the few years that she had seen him, it was obvious that he had gained some wisdom. “My mother was devoted to my father.” 

“Was she? Always?” Sansa asked and she could tell that Jaime flashed though his mind. He didn't say anything but Sansa pressed on. “When he died, did she cry? Even once? How long did she stay in mourning? Did she seem upset after his passing? How long did it take before she started whispering in your ear? How long before she started attending the small council meetings on your behalf?” She could see that her words were having an affect on him. Sansa could see that the last seven weeks he had been King flowing through his mind.. “She loved being Queen. Nothing more.” 

“She won't be Queen forever.” Joffrey snapped and Sansa could see him recognizing Cersei's behavior. Joffrey licked his lips and whispered something to Meryn Trant, who nodded. For a brief second, Sansa thought that the guard was going to strike her again, however, the blow never came. “Margaery will be my queen.”

“Which your mother hates the thought of.” Sansa declared, jumping at the opportunity. The King looked at her with a question written in his eyes. “Margaery is perfect and would make the perfect Queen. I was never good enough for you. You deserved someone better. Margaery adores you, she has told me so herself. You are a great King and with Margaery by your side, the two of you will be the best monarchy Westeros has ever seen.” The horribly beautiful lie slipped through her swollen lips. 

“Margaery is far better than you.” 

“She is. I was never fit to be queen. I would have been far to easy for outside influences to manipulate. Margaery would be far too loyal to you for anyone to try and turn her against you. Your mother told me that she wished I had married you; not because she liked me but because she would have been able to continue to rule through me.” 

“She always did say that you were a stupid child.” Joffrey stated. He thought about betrothed and couldn't help but agree with Sansa. Margaery was willful and intelligent, something he admired about her. She had a thirst for power and violence that matched his own. She was the perfect bride for him. However, he thought about the interactions between her and his mother. Cersei had always been cold to Margaery and never treated her has her equal. 

Joffrey stepped forward and reached out to Sansa. He traced the bruise on the side of her face with a gentle hand. Sansa hissed but made no movements. She was in pain but she would only allow herself to acknowledge it once Joffrey was gone. She needed her words to work on him. If they didn't, her and her husband could fall into a dangerous predicament. While the beating was horrid and it would fuel her nightmares, it came with a purpose. It was a sacrifice she was willing to make if it furthered their agenda.

The farther Joffrey grew from his mother and the closer he grew to Margaery, the less power the Lannisters had. Margaery would make a great Queen, it didn't really matter who her King was. However, it would be far too soon to dethrone Joffrey just yet. Tommen would be far easier to control but his trust needed to lie with Margaery and not his mother. Margaery needed more time with the younger man in order to have Cersei completely isolated and powerless. Once Cersei was in the perfect position, Sansa would take Joffrey from her and watch as Margaery and Tommen took the throne; giving the power completely over to the Tyrells. 

Joffrey drew his fingers from the bruise and he slowly weaved them into her bright red hair. His fingers curled and the King tugged on the locks roughly. He pulled her hair, causing her head to be yanked backwards. Sansa cried out in both surprise and pain. Joffrey leaned in and she could feel his honeysuckle breath against the lobe of her ear. “If I hear a word of this from anyone other than you or your husband, I will have both of your heads. Do I make myself clear?” 

Sansa nodded and Joffrey pushed her backwards. She collapsed and Shae caught her. Joffrey turned and strolled away with Meryn Trant faithfully by his side. Sansa watched them go and once they were out of sight, she allowed her legs to fully give away. The weight of her body caused Shae to sink with her and the two women sat on the stone ground. 

“My Lady, what can I do? You need help.” Shae whispered and Sansa reached for her neck. The adrenaline was quickly fading that the pain was becoming worse. Spots were slowly invading her vision and it felt as though her throat was closing in on itself. The touched the handprint that had been left by Meryn Trant and winced at how sensitive it felt. 

“Petyr. I need Petyr. Please.” 

“Lord Baelish is at one of his brothels.” Shae stated. Baelish was deep inside King's Landing and it would take some time for Shae to get her to him. Sansa just glared at her handmaiden but didn't say anything. She was willing to make the journey if it got her to Baelish. She wasn't dying, she knew but if someone didn't look at her neck soon, she wasn't sure what the damage would be. She wanted Baelish with her. She needed him there. “I will get you there. I will...I know who I can ask to get you there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...my lovely beta Cris has informed me that I was obligated to write the scenes in the brothel. She was rather disappointed that it happened off screen. The brothel will come up against throughout the story and I am sure that I can somehow work a sex scene in the brothel. If not, I can always do outtakes once the story is completed. LOL.


	43. Chapter 43

The mockingbird gleamed against the wood of the brothel. It didn't take long for Shae to take her there. Sansa was taken back to her chambers first and only left alone for a moment. She'd moved herself onto one of the plush red sofas and simply laid there; waiting for someone to find her. Her entire body ached. No damage had been done to her lower extremities but her neck was swollen and black and blue.

She needed to keep her lips, covered in blood due to Ser Meryn Trant's blows to her face, parted in order for her to breath. Her breaths were slow and shallow, anything deeper was to painful to consider. When she attempted to inhale it was as though she swallowed a glass full of needles. The pain made her eyes water and the tears leaked down over her bruises. The salt from her tears made the bruises and cuts on her cheekbones burn as though they were on fire. It wasn't the worst pain she experienced but it came a close second. 

Sansa felt her eyes begin to droop and slowly her entire world was consumed in black. Her nightmares were filled with Joffrey's cold cruel words and Meryn Trant's eyes glaring deep inside of her. She couldn't look away from those angry eyes. The look in them could only be described at pure pleasure. It was the look Baelish gave her when he released his seed inside of her womb. 

The dream changed and an old nightmare returned, one she had several times before when she thought she was going to become Joffrey's bride. The boy king sat upon the Iron Throne and Sansa sat by his side with a spiky gold crown on her head. Small, blonde haired children surrounded them, all with the same cruel laugh as their father's. The crown found its way around her neck drawing tighter and tighter, spikes digging into her chin causing her to bleed but the dark red rubies adorning it sucked in the blood running down in rivulets. Sansa tried to scream but when she opened her mouth only a hoarse squeak would be released from her lungs. No amount of fighting made the pain subside enough for her cry out for help. She was completely at the mercy of the crown that surrounded her neck. 

Then the dream changed. Baelish stood by her side with his Littlefinger mask perfectly in place. He never looked at her, not once. Then in front of the Iron Throne was Arya, on her knees, covered in blood and waiting for an execution. 

Suddenly Sansa was jerked from her nightmare filled sleep and awoke to see Varys standing kneeling beside her with Shae standing over his shoulder, peering down at her with a worried expression. Her vision was blurry and it almost appeared as though there were two of him. The twin Varys' swayed and grew hazy again. Her eyes slowly began to close and Varys shook her again. 

“Lady Baelish, I need you to stay with me.” Varys lifted her head up and a pounding headache throbbed in her skull. She moaned when he moved her but she allowed him to do so. He was gentle with her, hoping not to cause her anymore harm than what had already been done to her. He fluffed a pillow and placed it behind her back. Sansa leaned against it and she saw Shae bring at glass to her lips. “We need you to drink this.” 

Water. The liquid that hit her lips was water. She choked on it at first, causing her to cough it up but it only took a few moments for her to be able to relax her muscles and swallow. The coolness of the fluid soothed the ache in her throat and allowed her to relax. She was by no means cured but it was clear that Varys meant no harm to her. If anything he wanted to protect her.

“Thank you.” Sansa replied. The water had done her good but it still hurt to speak. She coughed and she felt Shae rub her back gently. Sansa took another sip of water and moved her feet off of the sofa. Her body ached as she sat up and she attempted to stand but felt her head spin causing her to have to sit back down. Shae caught her arm when she nearly toppled over. 

“Are you able to travel my dear? If not I can send word for Lord Baelish to come here.” Varys looked at her but Sansa looked into his eyes. She wanted out of the Red Keep. She wanted as far away from Joffrey as possible. Varys nodded and stood. He helped her stand and lean against him. Shae ran to her wardrobe and pulled out a dark cloak. She wrapped the cloak around her mistress's shoulders. Sansa leaned against Varys again and he wrapped his arms around her tightly.

The trip was short. It appeared that Varys knew the quickest way through King's Landing. The daylight made it difficult for Sansa to remain hidden but she noticed that people seemed to look away when Varys passed. Shae, who was also covered by a cloak, remained by her side. Sansa felt comforted and protected. Looking at the foreign woman, Sansa realized that Shae would do anything for her and perhaps she wasn't the enemy after all. 

Sansa turned and saw the bright white stone building with a huge mockingbird on the wooden doors. Never before would she have thought that a place where women were forced to sell their bodies would bring her hope and relief. Shae forcefully banged on the door and when it opened Ros appeared at the door. When she saw Varys, she immediately moved to close the door to him but Sansa lowered her hood and allowed Ros to get a good look at her face. Ros's eyes widened and they were ushered inside quickly. 

“Get Lord Baelish. Now.” Shae snapped, her hands never leaving her. Ros scurried away and Sansa noticed that some of the girls were looking at her curiously. They all belonged to her husband, so she had no concern that they would whisper about what they had seen however she was worried about a few of the patrons that frequented the establishment. Her eyes darted around quickly, the colors and the perfume of the brothel began to run together

Ros returned quickly and Baelish was by her side. He seemed confused at first, clearly not aware of what occurred in the entrance way; an emergency certainly but Ros gave no particulars. When Baelish's eyes landed on his wife, they widened and the look of pure fear crept over his face. He rushed to her and Sansa pushed away from Varys. Once Baelish reached her, Sansa collapsed into his arms. Her knees gave out completely and he bent down to lift her into his arms. He carried her toward one of the back rooms with a large canopy bed in the center. He laid her down upon the silk sheets and sat down beside her.

“What happened to you, Sweetling?” Baelish whispered, knowing the answer. Sansa just looked at him and mouthed the King's name. She could see the fury and anger rage in her husband's eyes. He leaned down and kissed her forehead in a loving manner. “Did he....” He couldn't ask the question but Sansa knew what he was implying. Did he force himself on her again because if he did, she knew that Joffrey would be dead by morning and all of their planning would be for naught. Sansa shook her head negatively and Baelish felt relieved. 

Baelish stood and adjusted himself. He was calm, collected and it was absolutely terrifying. He wasn't a man that got violent when angry. No. His anger showed in smaller and far more deadly ways. He was intelligent and far more calculated. Sansa was his wife and the exception to everyone of his rules. They may argue, just as any couple but he would never harm her in anyway. If he did then she knew that she greatly made a mess of things between them. She vowed to never allow that to happen. 

“Ros call for the maester, the one the girls use, make sure you inform him that it is an emergency and if he is not here within the hour he will never work in King's Landing again.” Ros nodded in fear, hearing the burning fury in his voice. “Olyvar send word to the Starks. Inform them that Lady Baelish has had an accident and that we will be back in our chambers once the maester looks her over. Make sure that no one is around when they messenger reaches them.” Both Olyvar and Ros left the chamber in a hurry.

Sansa made a motion to sit up and Shae rushed to her side. She helped her moved forward and adjusted the pillows behind her. Baelish hoovered over her but allowed Shae to fuss over his wife. It pleased her to see Baelish putting his pride aside and allowing the handmaiden to do her job. 

“Water.” Sansa asked, her voice still hoarse and could only be heard by those who sat next to her, and even that with great effort. Baelish turned and looked for the first person he saw. He pointed at the random prostitute and ordered her to bring plenty of water into this chamber. The girl came back quickly and Baelish took the water from her, shooing her away. Baelish tipped the glass forward and Sansa took a big gulp to the liquid. She found that it was easier to swallow than before but still hurt to do so. 

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Varys standing by the door. He looked at her with pity and concern. She was touched by his generosity and wondered how she would ever be able to repay him. When Shae had said that she would get Sansa to Baelish, one way or another, she had assumed that Shae would involve Tyrion, yet was pleasantly surprised when it was Varys who woke her from her nightmare. Baelish also must have seen her eyes travel to where Varys was standing because he pushed away from the bed and strolled over to the other man. 

“I suppose I owe you a great deal, old friend.” Baelish stated and it was by far the most honest words that have ever left his lips when speaking to Varys. The eunuch smiled, understanding that this was as close as Baelish would ever going to get to saying 'thank you'. 

“I did it more for her than I did for you, I hope you understand. She is far more likable than you.” Varys japed causing Baelish to smile at him but it lacked its usual malice and for the first time, Varys realized how precious Sansa was to the Master of Coin. He knew that Baelish lusted after her but he imagined that it went beyond that. He had thought the marriage to Sansa was another move to him in the game, however it was clear that their marriage was built on more just the thrill of the game. “If there is anything that I can do, please don't hesitate to ask.” 

“There is one thing.” Baelish stated and Varys seemed unsurprised. Sansa sat up straighter and looked between the two men. Shae attempted to get her to drink more but ignored her attempts. Baelish laughed but everyone could hear how cold it was. “Bring me Tyrion Lannister.” Shae snapped her head toward the two of the men standing across the room. Sansa could tell she was panicked but couldn't tell if it was out of concern for her lover or the fact that she would be seeing him. Varys's words rang through her head again. Things were not as rosy as they once had been between Tyrion and Shae. 

“Very well.” Varys nodded and turned. He glided toward the exit, leaving Baelish staring after him. Baelish turned and walked back over toward his wife. He waved his hand and Shae stepped away from Sansa. Baelish sat down and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Sansa leaned into him and couldn't but inhale the scent of mint. She felt comfortable in his arms and allowed herself to feel safe for a moment. Her body ached from exhaustion and her various injuries.

“Where was Lady?” Baelish asked and his eyes where directed at Shae. She stilled, having forgotten about Lady and she could only hope that the wolf was alright. She would not put it past Joffrey to have the animal killed out of pure spite for the news she had delivered to him. 

“The King made her leave. We didn't have a choice.” Shae answered and Sansa could see his thin lips form a straight line. With each passing second, Baelish grew more and more furious with the young King. Her husband was intelligent but she could only hope that he wouldn't do anything reckless. Her wounds would heal and neither of them could risk losing everything they had worked for.

“I will have a guard trail you at all times. This will not happen again.” Baelish hissed and Sansa sat up to stare at him. She wasn't pleased at the idea and narrowed her eyes at him. She knew the guard wasn't due to the fact that her husband didn't trust her but rather it was due to the fact that he wanted to keep her safe. She opened her mouth with a rebuttal but Baelish placed his long finger on her lips. “Do not argue with me on this. You will have a guard. End of story.” His voice was harsh and cold, something that infuriated her. He never used that tone with her and she vowed that it would be the last time. She attempted to argue but Ros entered the room with the maester.

Baelish untangled himself from Sansa and greeted a rather young looking man. He had red hair, similar to her shade, and was as uncoordinated as he was tall. He smiled wide and Sansa looked at the man in curiosity. She had expected someone similar to Pycelle. He was harmless, that was certain and almost seemed embarrassed to be in such an establishment. He refused to look any of the girls in the eye. The man looked almost innocent but he could only be the best maester if Baelish employed him. 

“Everyone out.” Shae and Ros both left the chamber. 

“One of the girls get a um...rough customer again?” The maester asked, looking briefly at Sansa on the bed. The maester made their way toward the bed and touched her neck. Sansa hissed and the maester gave her a gentle smile in apology. 

“She isn't one of my girls. She is my wife.” The maester seemed surprised at the news and jumped. He knocking into the stand, nearly spilling the glass of water over the floor. Baelish must have been unsurprised by the maester's clumsiness because he didn't even react. “You treat her with the upmost respect, do you understand me?” His voice was commanding and threatening. The maester nodded and Baelish turned to sit in one of the chairs in the corner. 

The maester worked over her, touching her here and there. It was uncomfortable and when she would hiss in pain as his hands made contact with a sensitive part of her neck, he would apologize profusely. During the entire examination, her eyes never left her husband's unless they had to. He simply stared at her, a broken expression on his features. It wasn't long for the examination to be completed and the maester turned to Baelish, who stood. 

The examination was mercifully short and the maester turned to Baelish, who stood. 

“The damage is significant but could have been much worse. With a few days rest she will recover just fine. I recommend giving her some milk of the poppy for the pain and to help her sleep.” The maester pulled out a small vial of a white substance and handed it to Baelish. “Just for tonight. We don't want her to become addicted. Weaning oneself off such an opiate is nasty business. After today, just make sure she applies firemilk to wounds. It will cause some burning but it will help it heal.” Baelish thanked him and watched as the maester left the room. 

Baelish helped her sit up on the bed. He crawled on the other side and Sansa curled up into his arms. He uncorked the bottle of milk of the poppy and Sansa took it from him. It was bitter and had a sour aftertaste but she could feel it work almost immediately. The ache and the pain began to slip away as she felt her eyes droop. She fell into a dreamless sleep as her husband whispered sweet words to her and kissed the crown of her red hair. 

When she awoke again, several hours later, darkness filled the room. She reached out for Baelish but the other side of the bed was empty. It took her a few moments to realize that she was not in their bed at the Red Keep but instead she was sleeping in one of the lavish beds the brothel provided. The soreness of her neck made the events of the day come rushing back to her. She dwelled on them for a few moments before she heard yelling. She realized what exactly had awakened her. 

Sansa pushed herself off of the bed and touched the wooden floor with her bare feet. She walked toward the yelling and screaming, passing some of the prostitutes as she went. All of them looked at her with sympathetic glances, knowing exactly the pain she was suffering from. Not a single one stopped her once she reached her husband's solar. She pushed the door open and saw her husband looking far more furious than she had ever seen him.

He was in nothing more than his tunic and breeches. She could see the remainder of his clothing tossed to the side along with his boots. He had been here for hours, most likely waiting on her to recover. When she entered, Baelish's head turned to her and he quickly made his way to her. He wrapped his arms around her and brought her into an embrace. 

“Sansa, you need to be resting.” Baelish whispered to her and kissed her ear. However, Sansa's gaze stopped over his shoulder. Tyrion Lannister sat in one of the chairs by the wooden desk. He crawled down and walked toward her. He took her hand and gave it a tight squeeze. Baelish narrowed his eyes at the contact, obviously not wanting anyone else touching her. 

“I'm deeply sorry for my nephew's behavior. I will make sure he is made aware that such things will not be tolerated.” Tyrion stated but they all knew it was a waste. Joffrey would do as he pleased. He had a fool murdered in front of the entire court and no one lifted a finger. A scolding from his dwarf uncle was not going to put any type of fear in him. 

“Thank you for your kind words.”

“Lord Tyrion and I were just discussing how his nephew should be dealt with.” Baelish hissed and the dwarf pinched the bridge of his nose. Sansa could tell that they had been in deep discussion for several hours and neither of them were getting anywhere with the other. She could only imagine what her husband was proposing. 

“And I was trying to talk your husband out of following in my brother's footsteps and becoming a kingslayer.” Tyrion stated and it became clear. Baelish was out for blood and it didn't matter who stood in his way. One way or another he was going to see to Joffrey's demise. Sansa kissed her husbands cheek and linked their fingers.

“Rest assured Lord Tyrion, your nephew isn't in any immediate danger from us. He is safe for now.” Sansa replied and it looked as though the tiny man was going to have a rebuttal but stayed silent. Baelish didn't look pleased either but allowed her to take the lead. While he wanted nothing more than to see their sadistic king choke on his own blood, he understood that she wanted Joffrey's death to be on her hands. “I thank you again for you kind words and your concern.” Knowing when he was being dismissed, Tyrion offered his sympathies again and headed toward the door. 

“One more thing.” Baelish called, causing Tyrion to stop and turn to look back at the couple. Baelish still had his hands on his wife as he glared at the smaller man. “Any type of deal we may have had dwarf, is now null and void. I hold you personally responsible for what happened today. I will do as I see fit and if you get in my way then so be it.” 

“I hope that you do reconsider Lord Baelish.” He stated as he left the couple alone. Tyrion realized today that no one had any type of control over the King. He tried to tame the boy but he was far too wild and grown into his habits to have him change now. 

“Sansa-” She touched her lips to her husband's. The kiss was gentle, seeing that her lips were still swollen, but the contact made her heart race. When she pulled away, she rested their foreheads together. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her completely. His hug was tight and he buried his face into her hair. Sansa understood that when he realized that it was she that Varys brought into the brothel, he had been terrified. She pulled away slightly and placed her hand on his cheek.

“We can't kill Joffrey. Not now. It will look far to suspicious if we do.” Baelish huffed and pulled her back to him. He knew she was right. He had known that he was being irrational, something he was not accustomed to being, but when it came to her it was as though he lost all sense. “He will die. I will make sure of that but we have him exactly where we want him. He is furious with Cersei.” 

“I know.”

“Send him Lancel's girl. She can tell him exactly what we want him to hear and maybe he can take his frustrations out on her and leave me alone.” Sansa stated, knowing that she was condemning some faceless girl to death. She didn't want to ever see her because Sansa knew that the prostitute would haunt her dreams at night. “I'm okay. I promise.” 

“I just...seeing you...because of him.” Baelish's jaw locked for a moment and he kissed her shoulder. He needed to inhale her scent and feel her against him. He needed to know that she was real and alive. “I lost my head for a moment.” 

“It's alright.” Sansa leaned in and kissed him again on the lips. She pulled away from him and brought his hands to her lips. She kissed his knuckles, hoping to give him some kind of comfort. “Let's stay here tonight. I'm exhausted and I could use some more sleep. Join me?” Baelish nodded and moved to grab his discarded clothing. “And Petyr. One more thing.” Baelish turned to look at her in confusion. “No guard.” He attempted to argue but she held of her finger. “No. Guard. Period.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Petyr....sweet Petyr.


	44. Chapter 44

A small council meeting was held three days later. It was a painful three days not only physically but emotionally as well. Ned had been waiting in their chambers the next morning with an impatient demeanor about him. It was clear that he had received Baelish's summons and it appeared as though he slept in their chambers. Sansa felt guilty that she made him wait so long but she couldn't make the journey. Her body ached and she just felt completely exhausted from the day’s events. The moment Ned got a glimpse of Sansa and the handprints that lingered on her neck he broke down. He pulled her close and simply held her, allowing his tears to drip into her hair. Sansa stood stiff and solid in his embrace but she never moved, allowing her father to grieve. His desperation caused her more guilt and sorrow than she could ever let him know. 

His tempter began to get the best of him. He yelled, threw thing and cursed anyone who got in his path. He threatened to call his banners and start a war against the throne, completely disregarding his old friend's memory. Seeing that it was the last thing Sansa would want, she got on her knees, held her father's hand and begged him not to start a war on her behalf. If he did, they would all be dead by morning. Robb disagreed with her. He wanted to march against the Iron Throne and burn Joffrey for everything he has done. 

“You couldn't save me then. You must not blame yourself for what he did to me. Please. Do this for me. I don't want a war started because of my stolen innocence. Don't make me into another version of Aunt Lyanna. Don't turn me into a story that children tell when they learn the history of the war against King Joffrey. Please! Don't do that to me. Don't turn me into a ghost.” After a long contemplation and silence, Ned shook his head and told Robb not to call them. He felt as though he was making a mistake and going against his better judgment but listened to his daughter's cries and pleas. The only request he made in return was that Baelish remove Sansa from King's Landing as soon as he was able; Baelish gave a small nod but said nothing in return.

Robb stormed away then and Roslin let him go. He wouldn't listen to her and she didn't have the energy to fight with him. She was more useful to Sansa. Arya wanted to run to Jaqen H’ghar but Sansa insisted that she’d promised that Joffrey’s life belonged to her, thus putting an end to that discussion. While Arya agreed, the younger girl remained silent on the subject and Sansa knew that she would not simply forget the incident.

When Baelish realized that he would be called away on council business, he was reluctant to leave Sansa alone in their chambers. His anger had calmed and he was able to think more clearly than he had been when Sansa was brought to him in the brothel. He knew the King would be looking at him, weighing his expressions and reactions due to the brutality against his wife. Baelish couldn't reveal anything. Ned had agreed to keep her company in her husband’s absence. When she told Baelish that she would not require a guard, he found it fit that a guard did not include her father, brother, uncle, sister or any other member of her family. Sansa found that in the last three days, she was never alone. 

Sansa had not been able to leave their chambers for three days but news of the outside filtered through Baelish, Arya and Margaery easily. The tale of the King ordering Meryn Trant to viscously beat Sansa traveled through court like wildfire. While it was only ever rumored that Joffrey had raped Sansa a few years prior, the beating had only confirmed it. Margaery proclaimed that it was the talk of the castle and attempted to brighten Sansa’s spirits with the tales that were being spun. While Sansa was still raw from the experience, she couldn’t help but laugh at some of the more ridiculous ones. While Margaery never said it directly, Sansa could tell that the future queen felt guilty about what happened to her friend.

Sansa had been resting in her chambers when one of the Queen’s personal guards handed her a summons to make her way to the Queen’s chambers. Sansa was no fool and knew that the Queen wanted to meet with her when her son was occupied. It was now common knowledge that Cersei had been banned from all small council meetings by order of the King. Beyond that, Sansa was unaware of any other punishment that had been handed out to her. 

The summons didn’t come until after Margaery had left that day and Baelish had been called away. She had been sitting in the common area of their chambers with her father, Arya and Roslin. Roslin had come every day in order to assist in applying the chalky firemilk. She’d assisted the Twins maester before her marriage. While she wouldn’t say anything, it was obvious she needed something to fill her days with seeing as her husband only seemed to visit her at night. 

Ned had been reluctant to allow his eldest daughter to leave with the guard but had no choice but to relent. The Lord of Winterfell had never felt so powerless as he did since he had arrived in the the Capitol. He had no authority here and while he wanted nothing more than to call his banner man and declare war against the throne, Ned was no longer to foolish boy he had once been. He believed in honor and duty but that would achieve nothing when he was forced to bow to a King who had no honor. When he rode to fight in Robert's Rebellion, he only had a wife to think of and nothing more. Now his actions would have far greater consequences. The possible death of his children was not something he was willing to gamble with.

Sansa appeased Ned by proclaiming that she would take Lady with her. The direwolf had not left her mistress’s side since Baelish had called her out of the Godswood. It was clear that the wolf realized that Sansa was injured and became even more protective of her than before. Besides Baelish and her immediate family, Lady refused to let anyone near her unless Sansa commanded her to kneel. The grey and white wolf would simply lie at Sansa’s feet, fixing anyone who came near her with a glare. 

The Queen’s chambers were not what Sansa expected. She had thought that it would be covered in red silk with golden accents positioned in the corners and hanging from the windows. However, the chamber seemed far more friendly and welcoming than she expected. It was filled with cream colored silk and more windows than Sansa had ever seen of the Red Keep. The balcony doors were open and she could feel the fresh breeze on her face when she entered the chambers. The sound of birds could be heard throughout the chamber as well as the waves hitting the rocks. When the Queen had requested an audience with Lady Baelish, Sansa had all but panicked. She knew that she could not refuse such an offer, doing so would be suicidal but taking it could also be detrimental.

“Come here Little Dove.” Cersei reached out her one hand when Sansa entered the chambers. She fixed her gaze on the Queen and noticed that she was not the only woman who experienced Joffrey’s brutality. Cersei’s golden hair was braided and pinned on the back of her head. Sansa could only assume it was in order to keep the hair from brushing against her swollen eye and the large gash against her cheekbone. Her red dress lay against her fair skinned collarbone but could not hide the entire purple bruise that was forming. When Cersei reached out to Sansa, it was clear that she was favoring her right arm. It appeared that Joffrey had done far more damage to his mother, than he had done to her. Sansa smiled inwardly at that.

“Your Grace. I’m sorry to hear that you are unwell. I pray that you recover soon.” Sansa replied in the gentle tone that had once been accustomed to her. Her voice was growing stronger with each passing day but it was far from normal. Cersei noticed the changed and could only smile at her. Cersei waved her hand, asking Sansa to take the seat at the small table that had been set up on the one balcony. Sansa obliged, sitting across from the woman who murdered her brother. It seemed wrong in so many ways for her to drink tea and eat crumpets with her, pretending she was in the dark about what happened that day in the broken tower.

“You're perfect, aren't you? Wishing the Queen well?” Her tone was cold and haunting. Sansa looked into her green eyes and saw that they appeared dead. She didn't know exactly what had happened between mother and son but it was fairly obvious that Cersei had had a significant falling out with the King. Sansa was certain that the King would never actually execute the Queen but the distance between them would make Margaery's job of controlling Joffrey's decisions far easier. 

“You are the Queen, of course I would want-”

“Oh, shut up you little fool!” Cersei snapped at her and Sansa could smell the wine on her breath. It was still early in the day but she assumed that the wine took away the pain that Cersei must be in. Sansa glanced around and noticed that besides Lady, they were completely alone. Not a single servant would pray witness to their conversation. Sansa made the decision not to eat or drink anything the Queen gave her even if Cersei was consuming them herself. She had killed one Stark already; she wouldn't put it past her to kill another.

“I'm sorry Your Grace.” Her tone was bashful and she looked down. Sansa rubbed Lady's ears hoping that she appeared sorrowful. She was trying to channel the old Sansa, the one who found it devastating to even consider disappointing her. Lady gave a soft mewl at the contact and Cersei's eyes drifted to the wolf for a second before returning them to Sansa.

“I should have you punished for telling my son about my affair. I would have rather kept that little detail a secret. Of course, what amazes me is that you even knew of it. Perhaps it is your husband that I should punish.” Cersei raised her teacup and drank from it lightly. When she lowered the cup back onto the cream colored tablecloth, Sansa noticed that the Queen's tea was far redder than it should. Wine, perhaps the late King Robert and his wife had more in common than she realized. “I always thought Lord Baelish was a far more intelligent man than to spill his secrets to his silly wife.”

“I do not understand what you mean.”

“Of course you don't. Perhaps I should spell it out for you then.” Cersei took another gulp of wine and slammed her teacup down upon the table again. “My husband was my king and my king was my husband. I hated them both. I was married to him for seventeen years. At first I was infatuated of course, but it wasn't long before I realized what kind of man I married. I'm certain after a time you will experience the same hate Lady Baelish, with whoremonger for a husband.” She laughed cynically and Sansa felt that hot piecing anger flow through her again. “I killed him. There I said it. I killed King Robert of House Baratheon and I had my lover help me do it.” She leaned so far over the table that the smell of wine made Sansa want to vomit.

“I never would have said anything. I promise! Petyr and I were not going to say anything. He was going to tell King Joffrey that he knew nothing. My husband has always been loyal to the throne, to you. He always told me that in a place like this I need to be loyal to the throne.” Sansa sniffed and she could feel the tears pooling in her eyes. “I wasn't going to tell him but then he had Ser Meryn Trant beat me. I thought he was going to kill me. I didn't want to die and I would have told him anything just to make the pain stop! I'm so sorry Your Grace, I just wanted the pain to stop-”

“Shh...little dove.” Cersei reached across the table and took Sansa's hand. The Queen's hands were smooth and soft; it made her light headed just feeling them. This conversation was already exhausting her. “I forget sometimes that you are nothing more than a child. I admire your loyalty to me Sansa, I truly do.” She squeezed her hand again all the while giving her that motherly smile that she had once admired. “However, I find it odd that your husband would tell you such things. Lord Baelish is far more intelligent than that.”

Sansa paused but her mind was thinking through every possible angle that she could spin this conversation. It was important for her to protect Baelish with everything she had. Of course she knew that the Queen thought her as a pawn in her game because she believed her to be a fool. Old Sansa would have thought that Cersei would protect her but she knew better now. Her loyalty no longer belonged to Cersei but instead to Baelish.

“You taught me a lesson once, a long time ago.” Sansa's voice grew low, knowing that this was the only honest thing she would ever allow herself to tell the Queen. “You saw me, broken and beaten in the worst possible way. This...” She waved her hand to face, pointing to the damage Joffrey had done. “…is nothing. This I can bear with only a bit of mild pain.” She leaned back into her chair and looked out over the waves. “When Joffrey raped me, you came to me and offered me no comfort but taught me something instead. You told me that a women's best weapon was the one between her legs. I'm only heading your advice.”

“Perhaps I was wrong about you. You're no fool. You do what you need to do to survive.” Cersei laughed. She still viewed Sansa as weak and no threat to her but she saw her clearly for a moment. She was no longer a girl but instead a woman who did what she had to do in order to stay alive. Cersei respected her more for it. “Does your husband know that you keep his secrets?”

“Petyr likes to talk when we are done and I listen. I hear everything he has to say and I will never betray him.” Sansa said and her voice was harder than the Queen had ever heard it before. The two women looked at each other as though they understood each other for the first time. “You claim to have hated your husband enough to kill him. I don't hate Petyr and I certainly don't want him dead. He is nothing but kind and good to me. He is the best I could have asked for.”

“Better than my son?”

Far better. The words were on the tip of her tongue but she held back. Marriage to that monster would have made her life a living nightmare. The brutality she experienced days earlier would have been a daily torment. Sansa was strong and she could weather any storm that came her way but if she had been forced to marry him as the girl she used to be, he would have broken her.

“Joffrey is my King and Petyr is my husband. My husband is loyal to the King, therefore so am I.” They were silent for a moment; neither willing to look away from the other. It almost surprised her how Cersei was the first to look away.

“Perhaps it is best that you didn't marry my son. He would have killed you within your first year of marriage.” Cersei took another sip of wine and Sansa just watched her, thinking on those words. She knew that Joffrey would have made a horrid husband and she almost pitied Margaery because of it. However, she believed that Joffrey wouldn't have killed her. No, she would have killed herself first before ever giving him that pleasure.

Before Sansa could even give a reply, the Queen's chamber door opened and Ser Barristan Selmy entered with two royal guards behind him. The look upon the Lord Commander of the King's Guard could only be described as pain and loathing. Barristan was an honorable man who always did what was commanded of him, even when he hated the task. It was clear that Barristan was having a very bad day.

“What do you think you are doing? Entering my chambers without permission!” Cersei exclaimed as she stood from her chair. The breeze caused her hair to blow in the wind and Sansa could see the beauty that the Seven Kingdoms raved about. The younger woman stood as well but slowly backed away, her eyes darting between the Queen and Lord Commander of the King’s Guard. She knew that it would be best if she stayed out of their way and allow this to play out instead of intervening.

“I’m following orders Your Grace.” Barristan took a deep breath, gathering all of his courage to look the Queen in the eye. “I am here to escort you to the dungeons my lady. You are being arrested under suspicion to conspire to murder the late King Robert. You are to be confined to the dungeons until the King is presented with either evidence of your innocence or guilt.”

“My son would never order to have me imprisoned.” Barristan stepped toward her but Cersei backed away. It was clear that the Queen was not going to go willingly. She would fight, kick and scream before she let them take her away to rot in some cell. “No. Joffrey wouldn’t do this. Not to me. This is Tyrion.”

“I am following the King’s orders.”

“No! That monster I have the misfortune to call a brother planted the idea in his head. He’s been waiting to do this since the moment our father named him Hand of the King in his stead. He’s wanted me to fail since we were children.” Cersei spewed and Sansa thought back to the meeting she and her husband had with Tyrion. The dwarf asked them to keep him out of their schemes, something they were willing to do until Joffrey assaulted her. However, he proclaimed that Cersei and even the King were fair game. He only asked that his own schemes not be interfered with. It was clear that Cersei was correct, Tyrion did want her out of his way and it was clear that neither sibling cared much for the other.

“It would make this easier if you come willing.” Barristan was calm and Sansa realized how conflicted he was about this arrest. He had sworn to protect both the King and the Queen. Now the King was commanding the Queen become a prisoner in the darkened dungeons. It was also clear that Barristan held no respect for the King but it was his sworn duty to carry out any commands that he was given.

“You can’t do this to me.” Cersei hissed again and moved around the table, hoping that perhaps the table would be able to protect her from the guards. Sansa quickly darted through the archway and into the room, wanting to put enough distance between herself and the Queen. It was clear that Cersei was not going to go down without some fight and Sansa felt no need to be in between her and the guards. “I am the Queen!” 

“Take her.” Barristan replied with a heavy sigh and the two gold cloaks advanced. Cersei moved around the table, knocking the chairs over as she went. Sansa moved toward the Queen's bed and leaned against the wooden post. If Cersei glanced her way even for a split second she would have seen the wide smirk she was unable to entirely contain. She was enjoying Cersei's fall from grace far more than she had expected. 

It only took a few moments before the gold cloaks were able to apprehend the Queen. Each of the latched onto opposite arms, causing her to yank one arm to lean farther into the other guard. The two of them began to drag her out of her chambers. She wasn't going quietly and continued to fight with the guards. Sansa could hear the Queen's screams echoing off of the stone. Barristan followed his men out and walked behind them, never touching her. 

Sansa stepped out into the corridor and watched as the guards struggled to keep Cersei upright. She kicked and bit each of them as they dragged her across the floor. Slowly the chaos died as she was dragged farther and farther away. Both Baelish and Sansa wanted to isolate Cersei by turning her son against her. The plan worked far better than even they had anticipated.

Sansa was no fool and she knew that Cersei would not be in the dungeons forever. She was certain that someone was sending a raven to Tywin Lannister in Casterly Rock even as she stood there alone in the corridor. Joffrey may have wanted his mother imprisoned but Tywin would not allow his daughter to rot in some cell. Tywin was the only person in all of Westeros who could pull Cersei from her son's torment. The King may not like his advice but gold won wars and Tywin was by far one of the riches men in the Seven Kingdoms. It may only be temporary but Cersei was out of power. Joffrey was isolated with only Margaery whispering in his ear. 

The news that Joffrey imprisoned his own mother would rock the entirety of Westeros. The small folk already despised their King and this would only anger them more. How can anyone bow to a King who turns his back on family? Even if the story of Cersei's involvement with King Robert's death reached the ears of the citizens, it would not take away their hate. 

A King that is hated is far easier to topple and replace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a bit tipsy as I am posting this. Soooo, my beta is awesome! Like really. I'm going to go and look at some Baelish pics now!


	45. Chapter 45

Chapter Forty Five

The silk felt wonderful against her skin. As she moved and arched off the bed, the coolness of the sheets only heightened her pleasure. It was as though Lord and Lady Baelish were running on a high. They knew it was temporary but they needed to make the best of the King's slow descent from popularity. The news that he ordered Cersei's imprisonment raced through the Capitol, reaching the far ends of the Seven Kingdoms in record time. While she had never been a popular Queen, the citizens hissed in displeasure when they spoke of the Queen's dishonor, which only solidified in their minds how cruel the King truly was. The only redeeming quality Joffrey had left was his engagement to Margaery.

Moments after witnessing Cersei's downfall, she rushed to her husband's solar to share the news only to find that he already knew having just come back from the small council meeting. He proceeded to take her against his desk in celebration. Since then they have not been able to keep their hands off each other. Whenever they were alone, talking became their last propriety. In the week that followed Barristan taking Cersei to her cell, Baelish and Sansa would retire at sundown. She would find herself in a similar position as she was currently; with her back against the silk sheets, her legs spread wide and her husband sucking at her nether lips.

Today was no different. The two of them had just ended their day at the brothel and Sansa couldn't wait to return to the Red Keep to lay claim to her husband. Unfortunately her plans were put on hold when Olyvar came to report on Margaery's progress with the King. Baelish was highly pleased to learn that while Joffrey had taken up residence in the small council meetings, Tyrion was not the only person who had influences over the young King's decision making. Joffrey would moan about his duties to his betrothed and she, in return, would offer advice subtly steering Joffrey towards decisions that favored the Tyrells and Baelish. She was so cunning that the young King had no idea he was being played. When Sansa saw her husband sporting his overly pleased grin, she could wait no longer so she linked her fingers through his and led him to an unused room in the brothel.

No sooner was the door closed that Baelish launched on her, almost tearing through her smallclothes, licking and nipping at her pearl inserting a finger inside of her and pumping it wildly. Sansa's back arched and her hand went to Baelish's hair. She cried his name and it could be heard throughout the brothel but her voice was not the only one. Hearing other women being bedded was something Sansa found incredibly arousing. Watching another woman ride one of her husband's patrons would always make her wet without fail.

Her hips rutted against him and Baelish placed his free hand on her in order to keep her still. Sansa bit her lips holding back a whimper as heat began to build in her stomach. It wasn't long before she felt that familiar burst echoed through her body. She could feel his lips kiss the inside of her thigh as she attempted to catch her breath. He kissed up her leg and over the top of her stomach. His lips lingered longer on her breasts as she began to come down from her release.

Baelish broke away from her breasts and latched onto her lips. They kissed and Sansa widened her legs so he could fit more comfortably between them. The broke apart and Baelish took himself in hand. He positioned his member at her entrance and pushed inside. Sansa hissed in pleasure at the feel of him. Her feet ran the length of his leg as he rotated his hips, thrusting in and out of her as fast as he could.

Sansa dug her nails in his back, leaving bright red marks in their wake. Baelish fastened his lips onto her neck, biting and sucking at her while they moved in sync. He pulled away and moved to a sitting position. Sansa crawled onto her husband’s lap and aligned herself once again. She sank down onto him and circled her hips, resuming their bedding session. Baelish dug his fingers into her hips and groaned at the contact. Up, down, up, down; the movement was repeated over and over; faster and faster with their screams of pleasure echoing throughout the chamber. 

It wasn’t long before the two of them could feel the other nearing their release. Not wanting to leave Sansa unsatisfied, Baelish moved his finger to her nub and twirled it in a circular motion. She cried out his name, arching her back causing her breasts to press against his bare chest. Baelish felt her muscles clench around him and he fell over the edge with her. Sansa wrapped her arms around his shoulders and rested her head in the crook of his neck. Their breathing was heavy and he could feel his heart beat slow as he drew small circles on her back.

After a moment, Sansa let him go and fell on her back causing her red hair to spread across the silk covered pillow. Baelish followed suit and laid next to her. He took her hand in his, linking their fingers, and kissed the back of it. She closed her eyes and slowly began to drift. Baelish chuckled and propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at his dozing wife with a warm smile. He leaned forward and kissed her nose and then both of her eyelids. Sansa groaned and swatted at him, causing him to laugh.

“Exhausted Sweetling?” Baelish teased and Sansa whined at being disturbed. She nodded and snuggled into his side. He shifted and opened his arms, allowing her to wrap herself around him. He held her close and kissed the top of her head before burring his face in her hair. He inhaled deeply, allowing Sansa’s scent to wash over him. “Perhaps I have ravaged you too much.”

“Never.” Sansa’s muffled reply came. They laid there for a few moments, Baelish running his fingers through her hair as she drifted in and out of sleep. After a time, Baelish leaned down and kissed the top of her head again before pulling away. Sansa groaned and tightened her hold on him. He chuckled, making her open her blue eyes and glare at him in mock fury. It was clear that she wanted to sleep and not to be disturbed. “Where are you going?”

“I have a brothel to run and whores to keep in line. Sleep. I will be nearby.” Baelish whispered, untangling himself from his wife. He slid out of bed and picked up his dark breeches off the ground. He fastened himself then grabbed the maroon silk tunic making sure to look presentable once more. Sansa lay on the bed, watching her husband dress. She always enjoyed watching him get ready in the morning, adoring how his back flexed as he moved his arms. It was a common occurrence for Baelish to be the first to rise and Sansa would linger in bed to watch him prepare for the day.

He didn’t finish dressing however, content to leave his coat and the silver mockingbird pin attached to it, linger on the ground. His boots remained discarded as well as he walked barefoot toward the door to pick up his ledger. They had both been in such a hurry to disrobe each other that it had tumbled to the floor forgotten. He settled himself in a plush chair in the corner and began reviewing what Sansa assumed were financial matters of Westeros.

Sansa napped for a time only waking when a knock sounded at the door. Baelish looked up. His brow creased in annoyance as he closed the ledger and headed toward the door. Sansa reached down and pulled the silk sheet over her in order to cover herself. She sat up in bed as her husband opened the door to reveal Ros standing behind it. She seemed nervous as she noticed that Sansa was naked in bed. In Ros’s profession she was used to seeing naked women all the time but none of them were Lord Baelish’s wife. She wondered if Baelish had put a rule in place about disturbing them when they were alone.

“I’m sorry my lord but this was just delivered and it seemed rather urgent.” Ros stated and handed the parchment she had been carrying to Baelish. He opened the letter and stepped away from the door. Ros stepped into the room as Baelish continued to read the letter. Sansa noticed a spark in his grey-green eyes and a wide smirk appeared on his features. Whatever news Baelish had received pleased him greatly. The way the lines crinkled as he smiled and the brightness in his eyes made Sansa smile at him. Witnessing his joy made her cold insides melt.

“Oh Tyrion, you brilliant, foolish dwarf.” He laughed and turned quickly to grab his coat. “Ros, help Lady Baelish dress. We don't have much time.” Baelish commanded with a snap of his fingers, before leaving the room. Ros gathered the remaining discarded clothing littering the floor. Sansa pulled herself from the bed and allowed Ros to push and pull at her. She stepped into the shift and allowed Ros to tie the corset around her waist. She put her arms into the dark blue dress and tied the front as Ros ran a brush through her hair.

Baelish returned with two black cloaks in his hand. He strolled over to Sansa and handed her one before continuing to dress himself. She fastened it around her shoulders, watching as her husband did the same. She was very curious as to what news would prompt her husband to this haste. He thanked Ros who nodded and left the room, closing the door behind her. Baelish turned Sansa around and quickly began to braid her hair.

“Petyr, what is going on?” She asked as his skilled fingers made quick work of her hair. Once she could tell that he was finished she turned to look at him. He placed his hands on both of her shoulders, grabbing the hood in his hands and pulling it up over her head, covering her hair completely. He then did the same thing to his own hood. “Where are we going?”

“Lord Tyrion has been a very busy boy. He is no fool and realizes that his sister will not be rotting in a cell forever so he is using his time wisely.” Baelish whispered and linked their hands together. 

It was true, since Cersei's downfall Tyrion has made some interesting moves. Cersei had been certain that her brother was behind her arrest and she was correct. Joffrey had called for her head but it was Tyrion who reasoned with the King during the small council meeting and convinced him to imprison her in order to await a trial. However, he knew that once Tywin got wind of Cersei's arrest, he would come to the Capitol as quickly as he could, cutting Tyrion's reign as Hand of the King short. He took control of Joffrey, scolding him and guiding him in a way that his mother never did, allowing Margaery to play the dutiful shoulder to cry upon. When Joffrey would rage at the being talked down to and proclaim himself King, Tyrion would always have some rebuttal. He took control of the small council, advising the King far better than Cersei ever did. He viewed the royal ledgers and attempted to find ways in order to bring Westeros out of debt. He removed Cersei's spies and loyal advocates, banishing them so once Cersei was released she would have no one on her side, other than her father and her brother Jaime.

All the while Baelish stepped aside and allowed the dwarf his control. The moves he made neither benefited nor harmed them. Baelish had buried his dealings well enough that one would have to be looking specifically for his deceptions in order to spot them. If Tyrion had, he said nothing. Baelish still harbored some anger toward him but hid it well. He went about as though their agreement was still in place yet Sansa knew that one day Baelish would punish the dwarf for not controlling his nephew better.

Baelish pulled Sansa through the brothel and out a back entrance in order to avoid being seen. It was dusk and darkness was slowly falling over King's Landing. They weaved through alleyways and streets, getting farther and farther away from the brothel and the Red Keep. Her feet began to ache from walking at a brisk pace for so long and she was thankful when they finally reached a tavern located on the far end of the Capitol.

The tavern was dark and but the sound of drunken laughter could be heard from inside. A few people stumbled outside, obviously inebriated as the couple walked through the door. A whiff of ale and human body odor hit Sansa full force, causing her stomach to churn. She gagged and Baelish looked at her with concern. She brought her hand to her lips and closed her eyes, waiting for the nausea to pass.

“I'm alright.” She whispered. “Really. What are we doing here?”

“One of my men owns this bar.” Baelish stated as he looked her over, making sure that she was indeed alright. “He keeps me informed of anything of interest that may happen in this part of King's Landing. A man was spotted entering the tavern a few hours ago, hoping to have a room for the night.” He leaned forward and kissed the top of her head before whispering in her ear. “I need you to stay close to me. Do not leave my side.” Sansa nodded and linked her hand with his again.

“What does this have to do with Lord Tyrion?” Baelish just smirked at her and pulled her into the tavern. The inside was just as dark as the outside but far dirtier. The men who drank around the tables were not of the honorable sort. Their eyes drifted over her and they licked their lips. Baelish held her close to him, claiming his territory as his eyes drifted over the crowd. Sansa felt chills run up her body and was relieved when her husband pulled her toward the back and away from the crowd. There was a man seated alone. Sansa could not make him out, only seeing a hooded figure hunched over a table. 

“You've had a rather interesting week I hear.” Baelish proclaimed and Ser Barristan Selmy looked up. He looked haggard, worn and hidden by his dark cloak. There was a fresh bruise gracing his cheek and his lip was cut. Baelish sat upon the stool across from Barristan while Sansa stood over his shoulder, hidden by the shadows. “Arresting the Queen and being dismissed from your position all within the span of a few days. That’s impressive.”

“Lord Baelish, I shouldn't be surprised. I’m sure that you own this tavern or someone who does at least.” Barristan picked up a dirty wooden cup and drank deeply from it. Sansa could smell the ale from where she stood but the knight didn't appear to be drunk. He just seemed sad. It startled Sansa slightly to hear of Barristan being dismissed. He was loyal to the throne and possibly one of the few honorable people left at court. “The imp replaced me with that man of his. Bronn I think his name is.” Tyrion now controlled the gold cloaks and as long as Bronn stayed in that position, Tyrion always would.

“And what excuse did the dwarf give for excusing you?” Baelish asked. Sansa moved closer and sat next to her husband, appearing in front of Barristan for the first time. The elder man seemed shocked to see her in such a place but said nothing. It was clear that the man seemed surprised that Baelish would bring his wife to tavern with drunken men with no honor. Barristan had pitied her when he heard the whispers of Baelish’s marriage, thinking back on how a lovely girl such as Sansa was forced to marry a man such as Baelish. While he never really viewed Baelish as a threat of any sort, he didn’t trust the man either. Barristan hated the games being played in court and did his best to steer clear of them, only obeying the vows he had taken when he joined the King’s Guard.

However, his opinion changed when he arrested the Queen. He was surprised to learn that the Queen was not alone when the warrant was issued, instead having a luncheon with Lady Baelish. When Cersei was dragged away, for a brief second he saw the flicker of enjoyment cross Sansa's features. He swore he only imagined it but over the next few days he paid close attention to her; how she spoke with others, acted with those she liked and disliked but most importantly, how she was with her husband. Barristan quickly realized that the daughter of the honorable Lord Eddard Stark had become a cold and distant woman.

Sansa returned the knight’s gaze, only breaking away when she sat her hand upon the table and quickly pulling it away coated in a sticky substance that she could not identify. The table was filthy, covered in dirt, food and stains. For a brief second Sansa shuddered. Even in Winterfell during the cold winter season when mud would be tracked throughout the castle, she had never seen anything like this. She was not used to a place as disgusting as this tavern. It was nauseating and Sansa didn’t want to touch the table top with her bare hands again, so she placed them in her lap; the imitating a perfect lady. She scowled and Barristan laughed cynically at her. The thought of how Ned’s daughter could turn into such a creature saddened him. He never believed the rumors of Sansa’s reputation to be true, or at least that she had been taken by the King willingly; neither did the rest of the court. Most pitied her and found her to be this sweet and pure lady of the North. Barristan wondered how many people she had fooled.

“He said I was growing too old for my position. What use is it to you?” He leaned back in the wooden chair and crossed his arms. His eyes darted between the two of them and grew uneasy when Baelish smirked at him.

“You’re an honorable man, Ser Barristan. You made vows to protect the King and never wavered in that regard, even when the King did not deserve such loyalty.” Sansa listened to her husband and realized why he brought her along. It was a learning opportunity and Baelish was always eager to teach her how to play the game of thrones. “You served under the Mad King, something that could not have been enjoyable. Were you relieved when King Robert took the throne only to learn that he was a drunken fool? And the Queen, well…she never was a kind woman was she? And her son who now sits upon the Iron Throne, almost as though the Mad King ruled again.”

“What are you after Lord Baelish?”

“How would you like to serve a monarch who truly deserves the title? Not a boy who likes to torture small animals in his spare time?” Baelish’s smirk grew wide and Sansa looked at him in confusion. Margaery? Tommen? She knew that they were hoping to place Margaery in a position of power in order to rule over Westeros alongside Tommen one day. It was unclear if Baelish was promising Barristan a position back with the King’s Guard once that day came to pass. Even if Tommen became king, how would Baelish achieve such a goal when the Lannister would still be sitting on the throne?

Perhaps once Margaery gave Tommen a son, the King could be disposed of? Margaery would rule in her husband’s stead until her son became of age? That could be years and Margaery would have time to overhaul the entire Seven Kingdoms. The child could be groomed to Baelish’s satisfaction to the point that when that child sat on the throne, Baelish would be able to pull the strings from behind the scenes.

“And where would I find such a King?”

“I never said anything about a king.” Baelish smiled wide and it was clear that he had Barristan’s attention. “It is no secret that you were fond of Rhaegar Targaryen. He was an impressive man and would have made a great King. However, his sister is far more impressive.” Sansa’s eyes grew wide. What Baelish was speaking of, was beyond treason. She had heard whispers of the Mother of Dragons but knew only very little of her. “Daenerys Targaryen has conquered several cities in Slaver's Bay, freeing the slaves and is ruling as Queen in the city of Meereen. She has raised three full-grown dragons and has an army of Unsullied who are devoted to her. She has been compared to her brother Rhaegar. Tell me, would you serve her?” 

Barristan was quiet but Sansa could see the curiosity in the knight's eyes. She had never known Rhaegar Targaryen but she was raised with the knowledge that he was nothing more than a monster. The story she had learned was that he fell in love with her aunt Lyanna, kidnapped her, raped her and then murdered her. It wasn't until Baelish told her of the tragic love the two had shared and how her death started a war leading to Robert's Rebellion. While she knew the truth, she still found it odd that someone would admire the deceased prince. Yet, Barristan served directly under him and if what her husband said was true, he respected the young man far more than he did the currant monarch. 

“You're not a man of selfless acts. If I do cross the narrow sea and travel to Meereen, what would you get out of me serving Queen Daenerys?” Sansa noticed how he referred to Daenerys as Queen. It was as though he already made his decision to pledge his loyalty to her. Her eyes flickered to Baelish and it was clear he noticed the same wording as she did. 

“Nothing much.” Baelish leaned forward and threw that wide crinkled smile at him. “The Lannisters will not be in power forever. They are already beginning to fall. Cersei rots in a cell, Myrcella and Tommen hate Joffrey and will turn on him. Joffrey has no one loyal to him, not even his family. When Tywin Lannister rides for the Capitol, he will release his daughter, turning the King against him. The Lannisters will tear themselves apart, piece by piece, leaving the throne for the taking.” Baelish stood and held out his hand. Sansa took his readily and stood. “I will send you a raven from time to time, with news about the goings on in Westeros. All you would have to do is inform the Queen and make sure she is aware where the information came from.” Barristan shook his head and took a large gulp of the ale in his cup. 

“I feel as though I am making a deal with the devil.” There is was, a deal made in a dingy tavern in the outskirts of King's Landing, one that would be considered treason. If the wrong person heard it, Sansa's and Baelish's heads would be displayed for everyone to see. 

“Perhaps you are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! I was attempting to figure out how many chapters this story is going to be and I honestly have no freaking clue. The only thing I know is LONG. Very long.
> 
>  
> 
> Anyway, what do you guys think of this little turn of events?? I curious to hear your thoughts.


	46. Chapter 46

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter that comes with a warning....

The throne room was empty, an uncommon occurrence to be sure. The pillars stood tall, from floor to ceiling, ivy weaving its way around the heavy stone, reminding Sansa of the fairytales she loved as a child. The marble floor sparkled and shined as her boots trailed across them, each of her steps echoing off the walls and the vast empty space was far more intimidating now, than when it was filled with people.

The stone steps that led to the Iron Throne were far thicker than she anticipated. Sansa and Arya sat upon them and the elder girl allowed her mind to drift. This was where her grandfather, who died long before she was ever conceived, burned to death. The Mad King lit him on fire when he demanded a trial by combat. If she closed her eyes, she could see the flames and his screams resonate throughout the hall. She could smell the stench of burning flesh mingle with the sweet aroma that always seemed to linger around the throne. 

When her eyes opened she saw Arya glaring at the throne. It was an ugly thing; made completely of iron and the points of the swords rose high, towards the ceiling. The throne was fashioned entirely out of enemy swords by Aegon I Targaryen when he first conquered the Seven Kingdoms. She wondered about the Targaryen dynasty and if it would be more suitable than the Lannister one. Some say that the gods flipped a coin each time a Targaryen was born; they would either be brilliant or completely mad. If the Targaryen queen proved to be mad, Sansa would willing watch her torture each member of the court if it meant the Lannisters were no longer in power. 

Arya never moved her eyes from the throne. It was as though she was willing it to burn or shatter. If she could reach up and pull each sword from its place, she wouldn't hesitate to do so. Arya had been quiet of late. Every time Sansa tried to engage her, her sister pulled away. She knew that Lancel's death weighed heavily on her. The idea of taking a life in order to repay justice was heroic and romantic but the reality was far from that. Lancel's lifeless body hanging from a rope haunted her dreams, much like some faceless girl haunted Sansa. Blood was on both their hands but they wore their heads high and marched forward, just like they always would. 

A name had not passed her lips since the first one. She knew she had two more people who would die but part of her was just not ready to find H'ghar just yet. Arya knew she would, when the pain faded slightly and the dreams began to drift away. Sansa had been hardened long before Arya, who was just beginning to build that stone wall deep inside of herself. Sansa's had been in place for so long that manipulating Lancel's death felt as though it was second nature. 

Arya pushed herself off the grey stone steps and walked toward the throne. She reached out and ran her hand over the armrest stroking it for a moment with a blank look on her face. Sansa stood and moved toward her sister. She placed her hands on her shoulders and rested her chin on the top of her hand. Arya leaned into her and the two of them looked at the throne. 

“It's grotesque.” Arya blurted out and Sansa giggled. Her laughter rang through the halls, bouncing off the pillars. Her body vibrated and Arya cracked a wicked smile. She turned her head toward her sister and Sansa saw that mischievous gleam in her eye. “Sit on it!” 

“What? No!” Sansa exclaimed with a high-pitched squeak. Arya tossed her head back and laughed. The shock on Sansa's face was far too amusing for Arya to hold her laughter back. The elder girl narrowed her eyes and shook her head. She was right of course; the throne was disturbing. 

“What, you don't want to be Queen?” While many would itch to sit on this seat of swords, Sansa never wanted such a horrid burden. She found that she would make a terrible queen and the risks associated with such a position were too high for her liking. She would much rather control everything from behind the hideous chair.

“No. Never.” Arya smiled gently at her. She turned and wrapped her arms around her middle, the two of them just glaring at the throne. At one point, Sansa had wanted nothing more than to be queen. She wanted to rule at Joffrey's side and to be loved by all of Westeros. Now, she would give almost anything to avoid that crown upon her head. 

The throne room doors opened and the two girls turned quickly at the noise. Myrcella and Tommen entered, speaking in hushed tones. The two siblings have been inseparable since Cersei's imprisonment. It was widely known that Myrcella had begged her brother to allow them to visit the Queen but he refused the request. Arya had found it strange that either sibling would want contact with the woman who murdered their father but Sansa held her tongue. It was clear that Myrcella was no fool and knew exactly who her true father was; however it remained unclear if Tommen knew the truth. Whether he knew or not, Margaery had done her job well enough and Tommen felt no compassion for his brother. 

The two blond siblings stopped when they saw that they were not alone. They shared a look and the two of the strolled forward. While Tommen could be considered handsome, it was offset by his sister’s beauty. Myrcella was far more lovely than any woman Sansa had ever seen. What made her frightening was how intelligent she was behind that stunning face. Her lips broke into a sad smile as she engulfed Sansa into an embrace then, did the exact same to Arya, who was far more surprised than Sansa had been. 

“I just heard. I'm so sorry.” The princess stated and the sisters exchanged a confused look. Myrcella's eyes drifted between the two of them and grew concerned. “Do you not know?” Her hand reached out and gripped Sansa's forearm. She gave a gentle squeeze and it took everything Sansa had not to pull away from her. The touches outside of her family and Baelish were something she was not comfortable with. 

“What are you talking about?” 

Myrcella's eyes went wide and her head turned toward her brother as though she didn't know what to say. Whatever she had to say made Sansa grow nervous. She could feel her stomach drop, knowing that whatever news the princess was reluctant to share would be serious, and the more the silence stretched, the more concerned Sansa grew. Arya seemed nervous as well and it was clear that she was thinking along the same lines. 

The door opened again and Baelish hurried into the hall. His grey-green eyes searched the entire room and once they landed upon Sansa, he couldn’t quite hide his sadness. To anyone who didn't know him as she did, it would appear as though he was completely unaffected; however the minuscule expression that he was displaying caused her insides to knot. Something was horribly wrong and whatever it was Sansa's blood ran cold. She inhaled and it was as though she was in the North again; that sharp pain pierced her lungs, tearing it to shreds. 

Once Myrcella saw Baelish approach, she turned and grabbed Tommen, who remained silent during the whole exchange and pulled him aside The royal siblings stayed by the Iron Throne and Sansa couldn't help but notice how Myrcella would turn and glance at them as though she was curious as to what was about to happen. 

“Sansa...” 

“What is going on Petyr?” He was quiet, only looking at her. He had never been in this position before. When delivering bad news he had never been one to spare the other person's emotions. Now however, Sansa meant the world to him, how she reacted actually mattered to him. He hated to see her in pain and he knew that she already carried a shroud of pain about her. “Tell me.”

Arya stepped toward her sister and placed her hand on Sansa's shoulder. She reached up and grasped her hand tightly, bracing for the worst. Arya was just as concerned because Baelish's eyes would flicker over to her every few seconds as though it would affect both of them. Baelish took a deep breath, as though he was accepting his fate.

“There was a raven from the North, from Maester Luwin.” Sansa nodded, urging him to continue. “It appears that it became common knowledge that your father and Robb were heading South to pledge their loyalty to the new King. Word traveled to the Iron Island's and Theon gathered a few banner-man and attempted to invade Winterfell.” Baelish said and his wife could feel a sharp pierce through her lungs again. Theon's face crept into her mind and the furious glare he had given her moments before his carriage left, taking him and his new bride away from her forever, mocked her. Her free hand went to her wrist remembering the sprain that he left there. 

“Attempted? Meaning they didn't succeed?” Arya whispered. While she felt that she was needed in King's Landing, she had longed for Winterfell and for home. She had prayed to the Old Gods, wishing that they could turn back time and resurrect Bran from the dead. She wanted nothing more than the Lannisters to never have come to Winterfell, leaving them in peace. Yet she knew that would never happen and she would be forced to live in the nightmare they were dealt. 

“They held Winterfell for a few days before some northern men rallied and overthrew Theon and his men. They were able to regain control but not without damage to Winterfell itself.” Baelish paused looking at Sansa. “And not without some losses.” 

“Who?”

“Ser Rodrick. He was executed for defying Theon's wishes. Theon demanded he bow to him and he refused, calling him a traitor.” Arya wrapped her arms around herself and sniffed. She had always been close with Ser Rodrick ever since they began their training lessons. He became like a second father to her in many ways. He was a shoulder for her to lean on when she needed advice that she didn't feel comfortable going to her father for. Sansa reached her arms out and brought Arya toward her chest. 

“Who else?” Silence. “Petyr, who else?”

“Rickon.” Her baby brother's name sounded like a crack in spring ice. She felt her heart completely still for a beat before she willed it to start beating again. It felt as though the air was sucked from the room, making it impossible to breath. The only thing Sansa could focus on was worried expression her husband was giving her. “Catelyn challenged Theon, she wasn't going to allow him control over Winterfell. Rickon got in between them in order to protect her. Theon had been drinking... Rickon died in your mother's arms.” 

Sansa closed her eyes and remembered how her mother cried when Bran died. Those haunting screams that only a mother who lost a child could produce. It was a pain that rivaled no other. She sat by Bran's bedside as he slowly died and Sansa could only imagine how devastating it would have been to watch her youngest child bleed out in her arms. 

“Did Maester Luwin say how my mother was handling it?” Sansa asked in a hoarse voice. She was patching herself together as best as she could. Arya was trembling in her arms, unable to contain the sobs that wracked her body. Sansa knew her self-control would only last so long. Once Baelish took her back to their chambers, she would allow the grief to consume her. She would allow Baelish's arms to hold her close and comfort her. Sansa opened her eyes and looked at her husband and she realized that there was grief written in them. “How is my mother? Petyr Baelish, answer me. How is my mother?”

“I'm so sorry.” The apology was merely a whisper. Sansa shook her head and pulled away from Arya, who collapsed onto her knees. Myrcella rushed over and knelt on the ground, taking Arya in her arms. The youngest Stark daughter allowed the grief to overcome her completely. Tommen knelt on the floor and placed his hand on Arya's back as though he had no idea what he should do. 

“No.” 

Baelish reached out to Sansa but she pushed him away. She could feel the tears falling from her eyes, drenching her cheeks with salt and water. She wrapped her arms around her chest as though she was attempting to hold herself together. Her nails dug into her skin. The harder her nails dug, the easier it was to focus on the piercing of her skin than the gnawing darkness that was quickly consuming her. “I don't believe you. You're lying.”

“Sansa.” Baelish stepped forward but his wife shook her head and backed away. She knew that it wasn't his fault but she didn't know what to do. Here stood the man who once loved her mother and it was obvious that he was saddened by her death. While she knew that his love for Catelyn had faded long ago, Sansa couldn't feel rational at the moment. The pain was all consuming. “Please.” 

“Don't touch me.” He didn't listen. He placed his hands on her arms and brought her closer to him. She balled her fists and hit them against his chest. It wasn't a powerful hit but rather a weak attempt more than anything else. “Let me go.” She continued to fight him but Baelish just wrapped his arms tightly around her. The pounding on his chest grew weaker as Sansa's sobs grew stronger. Soon her body went limp as the sobs took over. Her hands loosened and grasped the lapel of his coat. “Let me go. Let me go.” 

Baelish buried his face in her hair and she was overcome with the scent of mint. He was strong and firm as though he would never waiver. While he may grieve for his first love, he wouldn't allow his pain to overshadow Sansa's. Her loss was far greater than his would ever be and he had mourned for Catelyn a very long time ago. He continued to hold her tightly as he whispered promises of Theon's head in her ear. 

As she listened to his sweet words, she couldn't help picture her mother and Rickon. It had been eight weeks since she last saw them. Sansa realized she hadn't kept her promise to her mother. Catelyn had made her promise that she would write to her. When they first reached the Capitol she had sent a raven and then another but as the weeks drew on, the letters became few and far between. Guilt wracked her as she realized that she would never be able to read one of her mother's letters again or hear Rickon's laughter ring through a snow-covered castle.

They were gone. 

Rickon's sweet face smiling up at her was slowly slipping away. In the weeks that had passed Sansa realized that she couldn't remember his face clearly. She would never be able to run her long fingers through that thick curly brown hair that he inherited from their father. He was the last true innocent Stark and he died trying to protect the woman who gave him life. He was a child and he his last memories were filled with nothing but blood and pain. The only sweet moment of his death was looking into his mother's eyes as he slipped away.

For a second Sansa wondered what would happen to the saddle Rickon had fought for so feverishly. Would it remain in the stables, hanging without a rider to claim it? And Shaggydog? Would the wolf roam the Godswood with Summer? Two lone wolves, without masters to guide them through their lives. Would they howl at the moon at night when the rest of the world slept? She could almost hear the howling through her sobs and it was deafening sound. Each imaginary howl brought a fresh dose of raw grief to course through her very being. 

Her legs gave out then and her entire body weight sagged into Baelish's. He held her as they both sank down onto the marble flooring. Her sobs could be heard echoing off the stone walls. People entered the throne room but she didn't see them. The crowd that had gathered around them watched in complete silence as the two girls grieved. The news of the tragedy traveled quickly and no one knew quite how to process that Winterfell lost its Lady as well as the youngest member of the Stark family. 

Her mind drifted toward her father and how he handled the news. Catelyn was his smile and the sparkle in his eye. She motivated him and calmed him. Ned was always quiet and distant, holding people at arm's length; something Sansa inherited when she learned that the world was no fairytale. Yet, Catelyn was the first who was ever able to really climb that wall he had built. Now that she was gone, Sansa wondered how hollow her father would become. She knew that she was long gone down a path that she would never be able to return from but she never wanted that from the few people she held dear. 

Two more members would join the family crypt. Bran's stone statue always haunted her after he died and she could only picture how her mother's and Rickon's face forever frozen would affect her. Those damp and cold crypts would be their final resting places, alongside the rest of the Stark family. She could hear the drips of water that would drift through the long tunnel and the cry of the crows as they would be buried. 

Exhaustion took over and her sobs began to subside. She could feel herself being rocked in Baelish's arms as she slowly became aware of her surroundings. A crowd of people surrounded her, all giving her those sympathetic gazes she hated. She wanted away from them all and their pity. She wanted none of it. She wanted nothing more than to take Theon in her hands as she squeezed the life out of him. Sansa never thought that she could hate someone as much as she hated Joffrey but she realized that she was wrong. Theon's life was just another that was owed to her. 

“Come. Let's go.” Baelish stated and Sansa nodded. He stood and helped her, his hands never leaving her. Sansa turned and saw that Arya still sat upon the ground with wide eyes, staring off into the distance. Baelish looked toward his sister-in-law and let go of Sansa. He bent down to the younger girl and lifted her to her feet. “Come with us Arya.” 

Arya stood with her hands clasped in Baelish's, still completely in shock. It was as though she didn't know how to process the news that she had been given. Sansa held out her arms and took her little sister into them. She placed a kiss on top of those chocolate curls and held her close. She felt Baelish come around her and he started to lead them toward the wooden doors at the end of the throne room.

The onlookers parted, just as the crowd had on the day she married Baelish. She saw each and every one of their faces peering at them. In that moment she hated every single person except the two in her arms. They all fed off their grief. The heartbreaking scene would travel through the Red Keep like wildfire and everyone would know what her cries sounded like. 

As they traveled through the crowed a new resolve came over her. The only people that could be trusted were those she called family. She would protect them at all cost even if it meant chipping away at herself. She was already heading down a path of no return. She readily took Baelish's hand when he offered to lead her astray. For him she would maim anyone who dared to cross him, even if innocent lives got caught in the crossfire. That pit of darkness inside of her only grew. 

Baelish owned every scorned part of her and she would do any unimaginable thing he asked of her but for her family, she would do so much more. She would hear every single person scream as she burned him or her if they threatened her family. She would see the entirety of Westeros crumble to the ground if it got her what she wanted. Sansa Baelish hadn't been this furious since Joffrey had raped her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Hides behind couch*
> 
> Don't hate me! I know I'm awful! The Theon storyline was not finished....and I hope that you all can forgive me. I never said this would be a light and fluffy story.....its dark. Very dark...


	47. Chapter 47

Chapter Forty Seven

The flames flickered in the grate. The crackle and pop sound filled the chamber in the absence of any other noise. The air was cold but even the fire couldn't warm them. Even though all the Starks were gathered in one room none were really aware of the others, all lost in the their private thoughts. None could fully grasp what had happened. They all sat around Baelish's solar but no one was in the mood for conversation. Shae had brought mead, fruits, meats and other assortments as a gift from the King, however, everyone knew that it was Tyrion who sent such warm favors. While the dwarf was not a favorite of Baelish's, he accepted the kind gesture in order to make sure his wife ate something.

Robb sat in a plush chair by a bookshelf in the corner. He was in denial. He kept thinking back to all the times Theon had acted like brother to him. He remembered the sword fights and the times that Jon, Theon and he would sneak down to the kitchens of Winterfell in order to drink some wine. They rode together, played together and were raised together. Robb had looked upon Theon as though he was a Stark, member of his family. He was a brother to him and when Theon began to fall into that black pit of despair he did everything he could to help his sibling. Now he sat on the luxurious red chair wondering why it wasn't enough. How could the boy he knew become the man who murdered a small boy he called brother and the woman who helped raise him?

Sansa paced the length of the solar, passing Baelish's desk and biting at her fingertips as she went. She was angry. Theon was becoming less and less of a person to her and more of a goal. Every fiber of her being dreamed of the day she would have his blood on her hands. She hated him and it was a feeling she had grown used to. It consumed every inch of her being to the point that if she stopped moving then perhaps that fire would go away; and if that fire went away, it would make their deaths seem pointless. For both Rickon and Catelyn she needed Theon to suffer. Until then, Sansa would allow that fire to burn in her for as long as it took.

Arya sat on the sofa and allowed Roslin to brush her chocolate hair. She wanted to strike a bargain. She wanted to push her sister-in-law away and go to find H'ghar and whisper Theon's name in his ear. She knew it would take time but her friend would get the job done. Yet, there was a part of her that didn't want to waste a name on him. He didn't deserve such mercy. She knew exactly what she wanted to do with her last two gifts. The time wasn't right and she couldn't act rashly. What she wanted was to bargain H'ghar for more names. She wanted more options and more time. Arya wanted to strike a deal with the Many Face God and bring back her mother and brother.

Ned sat upon the balcony, with the sweet taste of wine hitting his lips. He was depressed. When he heard the news that the woman he loved more than life itself had been slaughtered and that his youngest child was taken from this world, he wanted nothing more than to beg the King for the execution block. They had parted upset and the last real words they spoke to each other had been out of anger. The letters they shared since then had been ones of love but the last real words he spoke to Catelyn had been ones he had not meant. He had hardly said his goodbyes to Rickon when they rode off for the South. The anger and neglect would haunt him until his dying days.

Edmure had pulled a small wooden chair up next to Baelish's desk and the two of them discussed options for the North. He had accepted his losses. While he would never be alright with how his sister died and he would always grieve for the young boy he never knew. He knew that Ned and his children would not be thinking clearly and would need someone to take the lead. He would miss Catelyn and the letters they often shared. When he returned to Riverrun, he would pull each and every one of them and read them well into the night. Edmure would miss her greatly, just like he did Lysa, but he would continue on living and that meant helping his remaining family.

Baelish had proposed sending banner-men from the Vale to clear out any Iron Born who still resided within the walls of Winterfell as well as covering the cost of the damage. Edmure countered saying that he was giving too much. He proposed that if Baelish covered the cost, he could spare a few banner-men from the Riverlands. Baelish smirked and readily agreed to the proposition. The Northern men had done well with reclaiming Winterfell in the name of the Starks but there were still a few Iron Born fighting and a small war raged on. If Edmure deployed a few of his soldiers then the Iron Born would be easily wiped out. They would survey the damage and report what needed to done. Baelish would then send what was needed in order to repair Winterfell for the remaining Starks.

“I will write to the houses first thing in the morning. By months end this mess should be cleared. They should be able to return to Winterfell at that time in order to oversee the repairs.” Edmure sighed, running his fingers through his Tully hair. Sansa flinched when she saw the shade. Seeing her uncle only made the grief all too real.

“If they run into trouble, my offer to send men from the Vale still stands.” Baelish countered and Sansa turned to him. All of this was for her and she knew it. She hated the thought of her childhood home burning to ruins and he was doing everything he could to save it simply because he knew that it was what she wanted. Sansa felt selfish because Baelish had done so much for her since they married and she so little. She gave herself to him completely and wondered in a moment of doubt if that was enough.

A crash sounded in the corner; Robb had toppled the red chair. He was breathing heavily and his eyes were blazing. He ran his hands through his chocolate locks. Roslin stood and went to place her hand gently on her husband’s arm. He pulled away from her grasp leaving her arm hanging limply at her side. She simply stood there and watched him punch the stone wall, over and over and over. His knuckles grew bloody quickly but no one had the energy to stop him.

“I want his head on a spike. I want to take my sword and chop it off myself.” Robb hissed. Sansa saw that they both shared the same fire burning through them. His disbelief was beginning to fade and fury began to overcome him. “I want him brought to me so I can watch him die just like he slaughtered Rickon and our mother. I want to ride for Winterfell at first light!”

“No.” All heads snapped toward the balcony door and looked at Ned, who walked into the room. His eyes were bloodshot and his shoulders were slumped forward. He just seemed completely defeated but Sansa knew her father. He would grieve for his wife for the rest of his days but he won't let it defeat him. While it felt as though he was bound to crack at any second, Ned forced himself to stand on his own two feet. “You're not riding for Winterfell. We will thank your uncle and Lord Baelish for their kindness.”

“You're just going to allow others to fight our battle and defend our home while we hide in Kings Landing?” Robb yelled and Ned stood still. Sansa had seen that face once before. When Bran had first died and Ned grieved, Sansa screamed and yelled at him for not taking the position of Hand of the King. The expression he shared with Robb was the same one he gave her when she disrespected him at that time. “What happened to the man who rode off to war when his best friend called him?!”

“We are not at war. This is not war.” Ned's voice was hoarse and cracked, hardly patched together. “A few banner-man will be able to reclaim Winterfell. Once that is done, we will accept your brother-in-law's offer to repair our home. You know our financial status is not strong enough to do that.” Sansa stared at her father, listening to his words. She had thought that he would have insisted heading North alongside her brother. She was glad that she didn't have to fight him on it because she was quickly becoming tired. And part of her was terrified that she would have to let them go because her need for vengeance was that strong. Yet Sansa couldn't agree with her father. They were at war, just not one that was fought on a battlefield.

“What about Stark honor? Family, Duty, Honor! Family, Duty, Honor! How can you forget your family!? How can you forget your duty? Your honor? I want to fight. I want to avenge them! Family, Duty, Honor.” The Tully words snapped through the solar like a whip; all wincing at them. It was as though Catelyn whispered those three words herself.

“No.” Robb opened his mouth to argue but Ned held up his hand to silence him. “You are the heir to Winterfell. It may not be a war but it’s not without risks and I've already lost two sons and your mother, I refuse to lose you too. You are the heir to Winterfell, if you died then Winterfell would revert to your sister and the Stark name would die out. Roslin will give you a son and he will reign after you; that is your family. That is your duty. That is your honor.” Ned was silent for a moment before he looked Robb directly in the eye. “I will never forget them. Bran has haunted me for the last six years. I failed him and I failed Rickon. I failed your mother. I failed Sansa. I failed and that will haunt me until I go to my grave. I refuse to fail you and Arya. You're not going North. Not yet.”

Robb looked so angry. He turned toward Roslin and just threw her this heartbreaking look of loathing. He turned on his heels and left the solar, slamming the door behind him. The expression on Roslin's face was one of deep despair. Edmure stood and placed his hand on her shoulder. He squeezed gently, offering comfort. He pulled away and went toward Ned, who was clearly going to breakdown at any moment. Edmure hugged him, something Sansa found completely out of character for him. Edmure was not a man who expressed his emotions and Sansa realized that while he may be quiet, Edmure must feel far more deeply than any man she knew. Edmure placed his hand on Ned's back and led him back out onto the balcony.

Sansa closed her eyes and sagged against the desk. The fire was slowly beginning to dull. It would still burn, as it had for the last few years but it wasn't at the forefront. There was far more fuel to it but she was exhausted. She pushed away from the desk and walked around it. Baelish sat in his chair, appearing comfortable in his deep green coat. His hair was slick back and spots of grey could be seen throughout. He opened his arms and Sansa sat down on his lap, tucking her head under his chin as his arms wrapped around her. He leaned down and kissed the crown of her red hair.

“Are you alright?” Sansa asked him. She lifted her head and brought her hand to his face. She ran her thumb across his cheekbone. She looked into his eyes and she could see a sadness in them. He would never express it but Sansa knew him well enough to know what was hidden there. “I know how much she used to mean to you.”

“Past tense Sweetling. I'm more concerned about you.” He placed his hand on top of hers and pulled it away from his face. He brought her cold hand to his lips and kissed it, just like he had done during their first meeting. He was kind and gentle with her. She knew that she was the only one who he treated as such. “You are my beauty now, until my dying days.”

“Don't say that. Not you. Never you. Do you understand me?” Sansa hissed at him. They shared a look and Baelish understood what she meant. The loss of her mother, of Rickon and of Bran ran deep inside her. It was a grief that would never leave her but if she was ever forced to mourn her husband, that grief that would kill her. “I want them back. I would do anything to have them back.”

“I know.” Baelish leaned up and kissed her softly. He pulled away and tucked her under his chin again, holding her close. He buried his face in her hair and inhaled her scent. “I would burn entire countries for you. I would give you anything you wanted. If there was a way for me to bring them back, I would, even it meant the darkest of magic. Even if it meant selling my soul, I would do that for you.”

Baelish's words sunk deep inside her. It was the only bit of warmth that resonated inside of her. She had been full of ice and winter for years and the coldness was only becoming more bitter. Sansa had taken his hand willingly as Baelish led her down a dark and unforgiving path, knowing that it would turn her into someone she never wanted to become. Despite all of that, she would have him and he would have her. No matter how much blood she would get upon her hands, he would always stand by her, just as bloody.

“You mean you haven't sold it already?” Sansa muttered meekly and she could feel Baelish's chest vibrate underneath her as he chuckled. “I would do the same for you. I would sell my soul if it meant keeping you safe. If it meant giving you something you wanted, I would sell it to the man, God or whoever was able to give to me.” She leaned up and looked deep into his eyes. There was a dark cloud that lingered in his eyes. “I would give it, my soul, to you if you asked me for it.”

Baelish looked deep inside of her and Sansa refused to break contact. He leaned in and took her lips with his. They battled for a few moments, forgetting that they were not alone. If it had been any other time and if his wife had not just suffered a traumatic lost, he would have commanded all to leave them and he would have fucked her on his desk, hard and fast. But he knew that she was not capable of such a thing right then.

“You mean you haven't sold it already?” He mimicked her words and she smiled. It wasn't a wide smile but it was far better than the furious expression she had been wearing for the past several hours. The smile didn't reach her eyes, although he hadn't seen that smile since their wedding day and it would be a long time before he saw it again. Some would say that it could only get better from the point that they were at but Baelish knew better. He knew that no matter how dark it was, it could always become darker.

“Do you think that if I prayed hard enough, the Gods, old or new, would return them to me?” Sansa asked in a low voice. She knew the answer. She could pray until all the stars burnt out and the Gods would give her nothing. They would never hear her cries or hear her begging on her knees. The stone statues that would be carved in honor of Catelyn and Rickon were proof enough. “If I offered them any of deal? Bargained away my soul, do you think they would consider it? Resurrect them from the dead or turn back time and force them to come to King's Landing? Would the Gods give me that mercy?”

“There are no Gods.” He told her and she knew he was right. Sansa had stopped believing in the Gods long before Baelish entered her life. Ned would sit by the Weirwood and pray to the Gods while his daughter simply looked on, wishing he would realize that he was praying to nothing at all. If the Gods were real, they would never have allowed Joffrey to disrespect her under that sacred tree. If they would have looked on willingly to her disgrace and simply did nothing, then they were no Gods she wanted to pray to. “This isn't about the Gods. Talk to me. Tell me your sorrows.”

“It's my fault.” Sansa whispered, the tears slowly beginning to leak out again. “You offered to end him and I told you no. I let him go willingly thinking that he would rot in the Iron Island and that I would never hear from him again.” She sniffed, willing the tears to stop pooling in her eyes. “I'm such a fool and because of it my mother and baby brother are dead. I should have let you kill him; I just wasn't ready to become that person yet. I would willingly do it now that I wish I could change the past. I'm to blame for their deaths.”

“Sansa-”

“No. It’s my fault.” She whispered. She knew that no one was paying them any mind but she didn't want her family to hear her shame. “I'm the one who antagonized him. I pushed him toward Jeyne. I set it up so he would be banished. I pushed him into becoming this person. If I hadn’t orchestrated my father catching them… If I hadn’t done any of it, then perhaps I would still have a mother and a brother. Gods, I hate myself.”

“Listen to me.” Sansa turned away from him but Baelish brought her back to his chest. He lowered his head to her ear and she could smell the mint rolling off his breath. “Listen to me. Every move has consequences, some more obvious, some you would never expect. You did not tell Theon to march on Winterfell. That was his decision alone, no matter what part you had to play. If you blame yourself then I must be equally to blame because I had just as much of a hand in it as you. Do you hate me for my role? Because you can't blame yourself without blaming me.”

Sansa thought on it and asked herself if she could blame Baelish for Theon's actions. She couldn't and she knew that. She knew exactly who her husband was and he knew the possible outcomes of their little scheme. The reason she hated herself so much was because it never occurred to her that Theon would have retaliated. If she considered it, she would have just allowed Baelish to arrange that accident, taking Theon's life even if it meant spilling Jeyne's blood as well.

“I could never hate you. No matter what you do, I could never hate you.” Sansa’s words rang true. She knew that her husband was a horrible person and would do horrible things but no matter the role he played in the slaughter of those she loved, she would never hate him. She knew that if he got blood on his hands it would be because of her. She could never hate him, no matter what he would do but that didn’t mean she didn’t hate herself.

“If you don’t hate me then how can you possibly hate yourself?” Sansa just buried herself closer to him, basking in his comfort. He was the only soul whom she could be completely honest with. She would never tell another living soul the role she had to play and she knew that Baelish would take it to his grave. He was the only who could truly understand the pain she felt. “If I hated myself for all the people who mattered to me that died because of choices I made, I would have slit my wrist a long time ago.”

She knew that Baelish had lost more people than she could ever imagine in his life. Some of them have died because of him, even on a few occasions he made a choice when he knew what the outcome of their fate would be. It is part of the reason why he closed himself off to other people and never allowed anyone to get close. 

“What can I say? I’m a hypocrite.” That caused a chuckle out of Baelish. He kissed the top of her head again and hugged her. “I just wish I would have done things differently. I wish that I could bring them back. I just…I feel that if I had acted differently or if I just…I don’t know.” Words failed her. Sansa felt drained and wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and let herself forget the day. She knew that when she woke in the morning, the misery would all come rushing back to her, but she needed that oblivion right now.  

“Hush. Close your eyes and rest.” Sansa did a he bid. Baelish started to run his hands up and down her arm, hoping to comfort her in some manner. He kissed the top of her head again, hoping to make her feel better. “Theon made his choice. Not you. You cannot blame yourself for that.” Baelish hated seeing her in such pain. It terrified him how much he cared for her and how much it tortured him to see her blame herself.

“I wish it was that simple. It should have been me he killed. Not them. They were innocent and I am not. My death would have at least been justified.” Baelish pulled her away from him and there was a stormy glaze in his eyes. Her words angered him but Sansa couldn’t bring herself to feel shame for them. Her emotions were racing all over the place and she was sinking lower than she had ever been before.

She had grieved for Bran when he died and when she learned the truth behind his death, a fury entered her like never before. However, she couldn’t blame herself for him being pushed from that tower. She could blame herself for Rickon and Catelyn’s murder. The grief for Bran and even the damage Joffrey had done couldn’t compare to the guilt that weighed her down. She hated Joffrey with ever fiber in her being and she hated the Lannisters for what they represented. She never thought that someone else would even come close to that burning darkness. Yet, she was wrong. Sansa hated Theon Greyjoy and wanted nothing more than to watch his blood flow from his veins. One day, somehow, she would kill him and do what she should have allowed Baelish to do for her weeks and weeks ago. Theon signed his own death warrant and Sansa vowed that she would be his judge, jury and executioner.

“Don’t you dare think like that. No matter how dark things get and no matter whose blood is on our hands you are never, ever to wish that upon yourself! Do you understand me? I refuse to lose you. It might be selfish but I’m a very selfish man and I will not bury you.” Baelish’s words here harsh and rapid. His eyes poured into her and Sansa could see the fury behind them. He seemed so vulnerable then and she felt even guiltier for saying such things to him. She nodded in agreement and Baelish leaned in to kiss her. It wasn’t a gentle kiss but it was one that made Sansa feel as though she was his lifeline.

They broke apart when they heard a heartbreaking sob coming from the other side of the room. Their heads turned and saw Arya’s head resting in Roslin’s lap. She was curled in a fetal position with her arms wrapped around her. They could see her shoulders shaking with the sobs that were escaping her body. Roslin held her tightly, running her fingers through her hair. Ned and Edmure ran through the door and stopped once they saw Arya allow the grief to overtake her.

Robb was angry and allowed that burning fire to make a fool of him. Sansa felt guilt and wanted to nothing more than to pray to the fake Gods to exchange her soul for theirs. Arya allowed the sadness to seep through her body. Ned stood still as his entire world collapsed around him, trying so desperately to pick up the pieces when he knew that it would be nearly impossible to do so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am still hiding behind that couch! LOL. So, I had a shit day. Like, all I want to do is drink but I have no alcohol to do so. So I am re-watching Petyr/Sansa scenes hoping to make myself feel better.


	48. Chapter 48

Chapter Forty-Eight

It had been a week, a long and torturous week since the passing of Catelyn and Rickon. The first three days Sansa refused to leave her bed. The grief was overpowering and completely exhausting. Her body just didn’t want to be pulled from the comfort of her sheets. Arya frequently visited her and the two sisters would lie in the bed and hold each other. At meal times Shae would bring her a tray with assorted fruits, cheese and anything she could desire while Baelish would sit on the edge of the bed, attempting to get his wife to eat something or anything.

Those first few days were brutal. Sansa’s only desire was to stain her silk pillows with her tears. She felt no desire for food, drink or even the company of her husband. Baelish knew that she was grieving and would give her the space she required when she asked for it. He instructed Shae to keep a close eye on her while he remained in the next chamber. Her grieving emotions took a toll on her physically and she often found herself drifting in and out of sleep, waking up to her sister peering at her from the other side of the bed.

On the fourth day, Sansa was able to pull herself from her covers and enter the main room. Baelish had been pleased to see her and called for a bath to be drawn. She asked him to help her wash because she felt the need to be close to him. Baelish agreed willingly, scrubbing her back and washing her hair as she desired. She didn’t have the energy or willpower to leave their personal chambers but instead lounged on the sofas leaning against Baelish’s chest as he worked. He remained by her side unless he was called away on some kind of business.

On the fifth day, Sansa was able to see the rest of her family outside of Arya and Baelish. No one said a word but each felt comfort in being in the presence of their remaining family members. They dinned together that evening in the Stark’s personal chambers. Beyond the Starks, Edmure, Roslin and Baelish also attended the meal. Only Roslin and Edmure attempted to engage others in conversation. Baelish was far more concerned with the emotions his wife was experience to really be concerned with mindless chatter and no one else felt like talking either.

During the evening meal, Roslin asked innocently about funeral arrangements. Ned replied as gently as he could, the grief still evident in his tone that it would depend upon the banner-man that Edmure deployed and how quickly they could evict any Iron Born who still lingered in Winterfell. Ned had decided that once Winterfell was reclaimed, he would willingly move his two children and his new daughter-in-law back to the North. Robb of course didn’t like that reply, still believing that they should have been riding North in order to reclaim Winterfell themselves. When Ned refused to budge or to argue with him, Robb once again left without another word to any of them.

On the sixth day, Sansa felt well enough to travel outside her own chambers but insisted that Baelish remain by her side. She was received with fake sympathetic looks and many members of the court offered their condolences when none really cared about her loss. It was nothing more than a scandal for others to be shocked at. Sansa hated every moment of it. The only sincere person in court appeared to be Varys but Sansa couldn’t entirely be sure if Varys had no perfected the art of lying far better than the rest. The day didn’t come without bad news. A raven had been sent down from the North stating that Theon had fled, leaving his banner-men behind and no one has seen him since. Whether he would return to the Iron Islands or try and hide remained unclear. When she learned of Theon’s escape, she huffed and proclaimed him a coward. It was easy to conquer an empty castle; the difficulty was in keeping it.

Now on the seventh day, Sansa stood in the throne room alongside her husband and sister, listening as Joffrey held court. Attendance was mandatory and all the Starks appeared with grave expressions watching as Joffrey verbally abused a woman whose husband openly opposed the King. Ser Meryn tore at the woman’s clothing on Joffrey’s command. Sansa was certain that he would have had her head on a spike next to her husband’s if Lord Tyrion hadn’t intervened, bursting through the door at the last minute.

Whispered traveled through the crowed as the poor crying woman was led away by guards, assuring her that they would take her back to her home. While it might not have been what the King wanted, Tyrion owned the Gold Cloaks and they would be loyal the man who paid them. The crowd soon began to break apart and Sansa glanced toward the throne in time to see Margaery lean up from her position beside the Iron Throne and whisper something to Joffrey. The King nodded and pulled away from her.

“Lord Stark.” Joffrey called and the crowd froze. It was no secret that Joffrey forced himself upon Sansa and it was clear that Ned only interacted with the King when he absolutely forced to do so. Ned stepped out of the crowd and kneeled in front of the throne. “I was saddened to hear of your loss.” It was a lie and the entire court knew that the King didn't mean what he said. “My Lady Margaery said that it was an insult to the realm. My uncle Tyrion wanted to deploy a few gold cloaks to search for him but I couldn't spare them. If Theon is captured and somehow makes his way to the Capitol, a trial for your wife's and son's murder will be held.”

With that, Joffrey held out his hand and Margaery took it willingly. Sansa noticed a hint of shock on the future queen's face when Joffrey completely dismissed her father's grief. It was clear that Margaery thought she had convinced her betrothed to set a bounty for Theon Greyjoy but his hatred of the Starks apparently was stronger than Margaery's manipulations. Sansa was unsurprised at the callous disregard for her family’s murder but it still caused the fire of hatred to burn deeper inside of her. Arya huffed and Sansa could see Robb’s fingers flex toward his sword, without pulling it. However, Ned’s expression was the worst of all. It was as though Joffrey rubbed hot coal into an infected wound. While there was no hope for the King’s assistance, his complete disregard was pure malice.

Margaery took his arm when he offered it but they didn't make it far before the doors burst open and Tywin Lannister strolled across the marble flooring with a furious expression on his face. Jaime Lannister was with him, looking at Joffrey with a look of pure loathing. It was clear that there was no love left for his biological son. Sansa had to admit that Jaime was handsome with his golden hair, broad shoulders and comely features. When she had first seen him, years ago back at Winterfell, she had thought he was the perfect example of a knight. She had been a fool and now when she saw him, she felt that familiar hatred bubble inside of her.

“Grandfather! Welcome back.” Joffrey sneered at him, clearly knowing why Tywin had come back early from his trip to Casterly Rock and why he brought his son with him. It had been two years since Jaime had been to the Capitol and he would only dare defy his father for one person. “If I would have known that you were coming I would have ordered a feast to be prepared.”

“You knew very well that I was coming and you have ignored every raven I have sent.” Tywin stated and out of the corner of Sansa's eyes she saw Tyrion slowly make his way down the stone steps. “It appears that you are far more foolish than I had thought. Imprisoning your own mother? On what grounds? On the word of a woman? Are you that big of a imbecile?”

“She confessed and if you don't watch your tongue I will have you rotting in a cell right alongside her!” Joffrey proclaimed and Margaery flinched. Sansa could see Tommen and Myrcella simply watch the spectacle. Neither sibling was willing to come to their brother’s aid, it almost appear as though Myrcella enjoyed it. Tommen's eyes focused on Margaery and he could see her discomfort, standing next to the King. Sansa wasn't clear if her distress was genuine or if she was playing the part for Tommen's sake.

“I can assure you that neither I nor my daughter will be rotting in any cell.” Tywin hissed. Cersei had spent two and half weeks in a dank and dark cell. Sansa knew her punishment would only be temporary and that the balance would shift when Tywin came to rescue his daughter. Tyrion would no long play at Hand of the King, displaced by Tywin and Joffrey would once again be on his grandfather's leash. Margaery knew that convincing the King to do as she pleased would become far more difficult.

“I am the King!”

“Any man who must say 'I am the King' is no true king.” A hush fell over the crowd and no one breathed. Joffrey looked furious and wanted nothing more than to scream for the guards but no guard would advance on Tywin, not while Tyrion owned them. It wasn't out of some duty Tyrion felt as a son but because Tywin was a far better choice for the dwarf to bid on than a reckless king. Joffrey and Tywin glared at one another. Joffrey's temper got the best of him and he was the first to break. He opened him mouth to form a rebuttal but the wooden doors opened again.

A tall and muscular man entered the throne room with a limp figure in his arms. From a short distance Sansa could see that Cersei's fine clothes were ruined, torn and covered in filth. Her hair was mattered and clumped. Fresh bruises covered her skin and Sansa shuddered at the horrors Joffrey made her endure during her imprisonment. How cruel could a man be, to torture his own mother? The man lowered Cersei to the ground, her bare feet touching the marble. She fell to the ground as though she was unable to stand properly on her own. One of her hands went up to shield her eyes from the sun; it had been weeks since she had seen sunlight.

“Are you alright?” Baelish whispered in Sansa's ear. She turned to look at him and nodded. She reached down and linked their hands together. She knew what he was referring to. This was the outcome of their little scheme. Cersei fell as far as she could from grace. Her own son tortured her and distanced himself. His sister hated him for his cruelty and his brother was in love with his betrothed. His true father loathed him and his grandfather controlled him. The Lannisters were tearing each other apart from the inside and it was because of their doing. The outcome of their very first scheme together ended in tragedy, she could only hope this didn't.

Jaime rushed to his sister's side, pulling his rich red cloak off and wrapped it around her. He held her close and Sansa could tell that he was whispering to her. Cersei kept glancing toward her son and, despite all the damage he had done to her, she still loved him deeply. It baffled her that the one person who should have turned against him remained loyal. Jaime lifted her up and helped her stand.

“Take her back to her chambers. See that Pycelle attends to her. Make sure she is bathed and fed.” Tywin commanded and Jaime nodded, lifting Cersei into his arms as though he had done it a thousand times before that. “Tyrion, stay with them.” It was a command that anyone who didn’t know any better would have seen as two siblings comforting their sister. However, Sansa knew it was a command that told the twins that their moment together was temporary. They were never to be alone, ever again.

“You can't do this! I'm the King and she is my prisoner!” Joffrey screamed like the spoiled child he was, while the twins and their dwarf brother slowly left the throne room. Tywin made no movements to back down and it was clear he had won. Joffrey had never felt so powerless. “Fine. She is to be confined to her chambers, never to leave them again.”

“Agreed.” Tywin turned on his heels and followed his children. Joffrey sneered and huffed in distaste. He spit upon the ground before heading toward a back door the led to a small chamber used for the council meetings. The court began to break apart, and the chatter buzzed with discussion of the scene they just witnessed. Tommen stepped down and placed his hand on Margaery’s arm and she gave him a small smile. She seemed sad and bashful, a part that she played perfectly. Sansa felt overwhelmed then, the game was becoming too much. Liars and betrayers surrounded her, and she was the worst of them all. She raised her black lace covered arms and wrapped them around herself as though she attempting to hold herself together.

“Can we go?” Sansa whispered to Baelish. Her husband nodded, placing his hand on the small of her back. He slowly began to lead her through the crowed and up the stairs toward one of the balconies in the throne room. It would take longer for them to reach their chambers but they would be able to avoid many of the spectators. Sansa wasn’t sure if she could handle anyone else’s sympathetic condolences when none of them meant any of it.

Sansa looked to her side and saw Jeyne Westerling standing with her ever-present bodyguard and her mother. They had watched the spectacle from above the rest. The look upon her face was one Sansa recognized well. It was the look of unfortunate acceptance of what her fate would be. Sansa forced herself to wear something similar when she thought she was going to be married to Joffrey. While Sansa hated all of the Lannister, Jaime included due to the role he played in Bran’s death, she had to admit that Jaime would never physically torture Jeyne. Even if he would, Sansa was more than willing to ship Jeyne off to him in order to keep her away from Robb.

“Arrogant bastard the King is, isn’t he?” Sansa and Baelish turned to see Lady Olenna Tyrell standing against the balcony with an annoyed look about her. “My granddaughter attempted to convince his to place a bounty on Lord Greyjoy but apparently feminine wiles only work so well on the young King.” Olenna’s lips thinned and gazed at the members of the court. “Look at them all. Pathetic and useless highborn savages who think the world owes them something.” She turned and looked at Baelish and Sansa. “The two of you are no better.”

“That is the kettle calling the pot black. You’re playing this game just as much as we are.” Sansa snapped back and Olenna chuckled. She was not in the mood for the older woman’s callous remarks. She wanted to be away from the games and lies for a time. She wanted nothing more than to mourn her loss with her family and hang the rest of the court. “Why do you care if that bastard is captured or not? What use is it to you?”

“It should be everyone concern when members of a highborn family are slaughtered.” Sansa winced at Olenna’s word and she could feel Baelish’s nails dig into her skin. “A madman on the loose is something the throne should be concerned with, especially one who rose an army, even a small one and wanted to declare war against one of the Kingdoms. However, it appears that Westeros is not only governed by an entitled psychopath but a foolish one at that.”

“My wife and I are touched by your concern but I can assure you that very capable and talented bounty hunters from the Vale have been informed of the situation and are not taking any other jobs until Theon has been brought to me.” Sansa's eyes widened and she looked at her husband. She had been unaware that her husband set a price on Theon. “If they bring me his head, they will be swimming in gold dragons, if they bring him to me alive, well that is worth far more.”

“Are you sure you can afford such a bounty, being such a pauper and all?” Olenna replied in a snarky tone and Baelish leered at her. She stepped forward and placed her hand on Sansa's forearm. Sansa had no grandmother that she could remember and wondered if they were anything like Margaery's grandmother. Did they speak so freely with sharp tongues or did they hold back their opinions and do as they were told? If they were the latter, Sansa wondered if she ever could have respected them. “I'm certain you are tired of hearing it, so I won't offer any condolences. Instead I would offer you advice I would give my own granddaughter.” Olenna pulled Sansa away from Baelish and toward the railing of the balcony. They gazed on the mingling crowed as they played their own games. She watched as the men lingered with other powerful men, making deals and betraying past ones. Women flaunted themselves in order to gain an advantage with the men they played. Everyone had an agenda and they all had a way to achieve it. “Watch them, strutting about, stroking their own egos. Men are simple creatures, really. I hope not to offend you of course Lord Baelish.”

“My fingers remain un-pricked by your thorns.” Olenna huffed at the response and Sansa could only imagine the smirk playing on his lips. She wanted to gaze upon him but found herself unable to do so. She couldn't stop watching the court, her eyes moving from one face the next; all blurring into one common entity.  
“What advice on men can you offer me that would help with the loss of my mother and brother?” She could hear the hollowness in her own tone. She did not have the energy to barb with the old woman. Sansa wanted nothing more than to flee back to the cage that was Winterfell. She wondered if Baelish and she had never left the snow covered North, would Catelyn and Rickon still be alive?

“Are Joffrey and Theon not men?”

“No. They're boys. Not men. Coward and weak. Children who want to play games when they don't know the rules.” She felt Baelish creep up behind her, placing his hand on her hip. He placed a small kiss on her shoulder, a moment of tenderness he never would have allowed if the shadows didn't cover them. Olenna all but snorted at the display of affection and Sansa could feel his smile against her skin. He was proud of her and at least that could bring a small ray joy to run through her.

“Boys. You are far more clever than you first appear, my dear. I see why you like her Littlefinger.” Olenna chuckled. “Be that as it may, those two boys still have a worm between their legs and their ego will only be as big as that appendage.” Baelish narrowed his eyes at her, only causing her to wave a hand, dismissing his concern. “I'm a cruel woman Lord Baelish but even I wouldn't advise a women to seduce the man who raped her nor the one her slaughtered her mother and brother.”

“Then what are you advising?” Sansa turned to look at her again and she could see a sparkle in her eye. It was clear that earning Olenna's respect was something that was rarely done but it appeared that Sansa completed that task. While the two women respected one another, it didn't mean that they trusted one another. Olenna could see through any fake mask that Sansa put in place for the court to see.

“I'm advising to play on a man's ego. That will get you what you desire. Once you know how to stroke a man's ego, you can break him. Bring him to his knees before you and make him beg for it. Make him beg for his life or his death. If he begs, you know that you have won. Make his last words be meaningless.” Olenna pulled away then and left them standing over the court. She watched the men and how they puffed out their chest when they spoke to some other member of the court.

Olenna’s words haunted her. What of the boy who she once loved and the boy who stole everything from her? What played at his ego? Margaery? His claim to the throne? Joffrey had everything a man could ask for. He sat so high on his pedestal that once he fell, the landing would be devastating. What to take away from the boy who has everything? Everything. Sansa wanted to take everything he had and watch as he suffered.

And then what of Theon? The boy she knew since she was a child? The boy who had nothing left to his name? In order to prove himself to his father, Theon felt the need to take the few remaining loyal banner-men that he had and invade the home of the people who raised him? How could she break a man who had nothing left? 

Sansa realized that Joffrey and Theon were like two sides of a coin; two boy who were so completely different and yet both capable of horrible things. The only similarities between the two were that they both shared a connection to Sansa, and she hated them both. One lived in the lap of luxury while the only was running for his life from men her husband hired to track him down. She would make sure they both died begging for their life.

She continued to watch the games and schemes that were spinning on the marble flooring below. Sansa smiled for the first real time since the news of Catelyn’s and Rickon’s murder reached her. She, with Baelish’s aid, would outwit them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cersei is out of her cell and Tywin is back.....with Jaime...
> 
> Thoughts?


	49. Chapter 49

The air was fresh and the ocean breeze caused the blistering heat to cool slightly. It was a lovely day to sit upon one of the stone balconies to enjoy the finest foods that the Red Keep could provide. Fruits, bread, meats, cheeses and assortment of wines lined the cream covered table cloth. It was an extravagance that could be found when dining with anyone who was part of the upper class. There was no special occasion, but Baelish was concerned for his dear wife.

It had been just over a week since Catelyn and Rickon had died. During that time, Sansa found it very difficult to eat, her grief overpowering most everything else, her basic needs included. It was as though everything reminded her of her mother or of how Rickon laughed. She often found herself dissolving in tears or irrationally angry. Her anger was always directed toward Joffrey or Theon. Several times she found herself begging Baelish to take action, to allow her some way to end Joffrey’s life. The helpless feeling that seemed to plague her would not disappear, and that tortured her. Baelish was always able to appease her but the grief that plagued her worried him; Baelish was not used to being concerned for someone other than himself.

When Bran had fallen from that tower to his death, the grief Sansa felt was unimaginable. This time around it had increased two fold, amplified by the guilt she felt. While she had never spoken of it aloud since the night the news of their death came, Sansa still blamed herself. It was something she knew that she would never be able to forget. She would learn to live with it but it would always linger in the back of her soul.

Food disgusted her. The mere thought of eating was nauseating and her lack of appetite was what bothered him the most. No matter what Baelish requested for the evening meal, even her favorite foods, she would only toy with it, never being able to finish an entire plate of food. While Sansa was never one to over indulge, she was able to eat her fair share of food. When her eating habits changed, Sansa claimed that when she attempted to eat, her stomach churned at the sight of food.

Today, Baelish requested that a luncheon be held during midday while he attended a small council meeting. He insisted that Arya attend and asked her to make sure that Sansa ate something. While Arya still felt the effects of their loss, she was also concerned about her sister. Arya brought Roslin along with her because she felt that her new sister-in-law spent far too many hours alone since her wedding. Shae bustled around the three girls, keeping a close eye on her mistress. In the nine weeks that Sansa and Baelish had taken residence in King's Landing, Shae had grown close to the woman whose service she was placed in.

Shae piled a plate full of the Sansa's favorite foods and placed it in front of her. Sansa gave an annoyed looked toward her while Arya poured her another glass of wine. Sansa huffed and turned her head to look over the railing toward the gardens. People milled about, weaving their way through the roses and assortment of other flowers. It was a beautiful sight and while she hated the Red Keep, she couldn’t help but admit that their gardens were the most gorgeous she had ever seen; although the only comparison she could make were the Glass Gardens.

“You have to eat my lady.” Shae muttered, placing her hand on Sansa's shoulder. She pulled her thoughts away from the gardens to stare at her handmaiden. Shae's dark eyes poured deep inside of her and she knew why. They both knew but neither was willing to say the words aloud. If she thought on it or admitted it, she would be happy; terrified and worried but happy. She couldn't admit it; not yet. She couldn't allow herself to be happy when their bodies were not yet cold in the crypts of Winterfell.

“I'm not hungry.” Sansa stated kindly. Shae huffed and grabbed a piece of bread. She handed it directly to Sansa who rolled her eyes. She took the bread and picked a few pieces off before she threw them into her mouth. The onlookers gave her warm smiles; Arya's not reaching her eyes. “Happy now?” Shae nodded and turned away. Roslin reached out and clasped her hand with Sansa's, while her other hand reached out for Arya.

“You need to keep your strength up. I understand the loss the two of you have suffered, but you can't let it defeat you like this. It would be simple to allow that grief to overcome you but you can't allow it to do so. You need to live; if not for yourself then your mother and for Rickon.” Roslin's voice was soft as she looked between the two of them. Tears welled in Sansa's eyes and she felt Roslin's hand squeeze.

“I want him dead.” Arya's voice was harsh and cold. She pulled away from the gentle grasp that was Roslin's hand. She picked up a butter knife and held it in her hand. She placed the dull point of the knife on the tip of her pointer finger and began to twirl it. Her eyes never left the knife and it was clear she was imagining all sorts of horrors she would enjoy putting Theon through.

“Arya, what you suffered-” Roslin paused. She stood from the table and looked over the railing, placing her palms against the dust-covered stone. Sansa moved to stand by Roslin and looked over the railing. Jeyne Westerling strolled with several armed guards following her and the Kingslayer by her side. In the middle of the guards Sansa saw Sybell Westerling. It was clear that she orchestrated the entire outing because it appeared as though neither Jaime nor Jeyne wanted to be there. “I feel so sorry for her, and for Robb. Everyone deserves to be with the one they love.”

“Ros-”

“Excuse me.” Roslin turned and brushed past Shae, nearly knocking Ned over as she ran past. He looked surprised as she scurried away causing Arya and Sansa to share a look between each other. Ned stared at Roslin's retreating back. He knew that there was trouble in his son's marriage and had been attempting to ease his son's distress. He knew what it was like being married to a woman he had just met. His marriage to Catelyn was rocky in the beginning but over time they were able to build friendship, affection and then love. He was sure that over time, Robb would become fond of Roslin.

The mere thought of Catelyn caused a searing pain to pierce his heart. At night when he laid alone in the silk covered bed, Ned couldn't help but feel empty and despondent. He was trying his best to keep himself afloat for his children's sake. He could see Robb's anger bubbling beneath the surface and at night he listened to Arya cry herself to sleep. He watched Sansa bury the darkness deep down inside of her and Ned hated himself for having missed the obvious for so many years. 

Thinking back he could see the pain linger in her eyes and how her smile never lit up her face; he never realized it until the day she married Baelish.  
While it was obvious that Robb struggled with his marriage, it was clear that Sansa enjoyed hers. He never would have thought that Baelish could make his daughter happy but perhaps he was as far from Joffrey as she could achieve and that was what she wanted. He by no means liked his son-in-law but if he was the only thing keeping his daughter relatively safe, then he would accept him. Ned couldn’t handle the thought of losing any more children and would do anything to protect them. He knew that once they returned to Winterfell, the wide and open North would suffocate him without Catelyn by his side and Rickon's laughter to echo off the stone.  
“How are my girls today?” Ned asked and Sansa could still hear the hoarseness that lingered in his throat. The area around his eyes was still red and it was clear that he was attempting to hide his distress. Sansa walked over to him and kissed his cheek but it still didn't bring a smile to his lips.

“Just fine.” Sansa whispered, putting on a brave face. Arya huffed and Ned turned toward her, realizing that she was now his youngest child. A fresh wave of grief flowed through him but was unable to say anything. It was as though words had failed him and he had no energy to fight it. Ned just let the pain take over. He felt his knees nearly give out and if Shae had not been behind him, he might of fallen completely onto the ground. Shae helped him sit in Roslin's vacant chair while his daughters looked at him with concerned expressions. “Father, are you alright?”

“Yes. Sorry. I'm fine.” Ned stated as he caught his breath. His eyes focused on Arya and the young teenaged girl felt as though she needed to distract her father. She knew that they all felt loss but it couldn't compare to the pain that Ned was suffering. Arya's mind worked quickly, looking at her sister.

“Sansa hasn't really eaten in three days.” Arya blurted out and Sansa narrowed her eyes at her younger sister. Arya gave her an apologetic smile but it was clear that she seemed proud of herself. She was able to distract her father from his distress and he would be able to convince her sister that she needed to eat something more than a few bites of bread.

“Sansa, is that true?” Ned asked in a low voice. His eyes traveled over her kindly. She could see the worry in them. She huffed and sat back down in her seat. She fingered a piece of cheese, taking tiny pieces into her mouth hoping to appease them. “Why haven't you been eating?”

“I just haven't been hungry.” Sansa muttered and crossed her arms. She knew it was childish but her mood suddenly warranted that need. When neither Arya, Shae nor her father refused to look away she continued to glare at her. She huffed, rolled her eyes and reached for her fork to stab a piece of chicken. She placed it in her mouth and savored the taste. She suddenly felt her stomach growl reminding her she was starving. Sansa began to eat but her pride held her back. She didn't want to see her family's smug looks when they realized they had won. “Happy?”

“I certainly am.” Four heads turned and saw Baelish strutting down the steps. He wore that usual leer on his lips and Sansa could feel her heart skip. She gave him a small smile as he placed a kiss on her red hair. Shae pulled an iron chair beside his wife and he sat down, placing his leather ledger onto his lap. “Don't stop eating on my accord.” Sansa narrowed her eyes but continued to eat.

“How was the small council meeting?” Ned asked. He leaned back with his brown curls falling into his eyes. While he spoke to Baelish, his eyes never left Sansa. He watched her eat and a question was poised on his lips. He didn't want to believe it of course, but it was something that had to be considered. He said nothing, waiting for Sansa to come to him in case he was wrong.

“Dull.” He was lying of course; the small council meeting had been riveting. Joffrey was angry at the news that his mother was no long in a cell. Cersei had even been seen spotted strolling through the castle accompanied by several gold-cloaked guards. Joffrey sputtered and spewed at the thought of being overpowered. He was the king and to him, his word was law. However, his grandfather felt the need to overrule him and could at every turn. Joffrey hated the thought of being put back on a leash. “Tyrion however wanted to have Ser Meryn sent the wall. Joffrey of course refused, claiming that Meryn was his most loyal of servants.”

Arya's eye flashed to Baelish in curiosity but she quickly hid it. Baelish smirked, knowing where the girl's mind was heading. He wanted to plant that gem inside of her and hoped that it would come to fruition. If Jon Snow was still Lord Commander of the Wall, Baelish would have insured that Meryn be sent to the Wall and forced to take the black. He would have happily informed Jon of the role Meryn played in the rape of his sister and waited to hear the news of Meyrn's death. However, Jon had not been seen nor heard of in weeks and even Baelish had no clue as to his whereabouts. He had his suspicions of course but those could only be proven with time.

“I thought Tyrion was no longer the hand? With Tywin being back in King's Landing?” Sansa asked and Baelish looked toward his wife. Ned noticed how Baelish's features softened, but only slightly when looking at Sansa. It seemed that Baelish appeared proud at Sansa's observation and Ned had to admit that his eldest daughter had become far wiser than someone of her age should be. As a child she had always been a lady but had an innocence about her; one that he had though he could protect by keeping her safe in the North and away from Joffrey. He had been proven wrong. Ned struggled with the realization that he couldn't keep his family and Winterfell safe. Two of his children and the love of his life had been murdered there and his daughter raped beneath the very tree he prayed at. Ned looked at his hands wishing that he never allowed King Robert and his family to ride North six years prior.

“Yes. Tywin has taken his son's title but has been kind enough to give him another. Renly's position of Master of Laws had not been filled since he fled the Capitol. Tyrion gladly has taken such position.” While Tywin never felt any sort of affection for the dwarf, it has become clear that his disappointment in Jaime and Cersei still lingered.

“Did Lord Tyrion say why he wanted Meryn sent to the wall?” Ned asked, appraising Baelish as he reached over for Sansa's goblet. She made no motion to indicate that it seemed odd or inappropriate. During the weeks of their marriage they had become accustomed to sharing everything. Baelish did not have a goblet and while it would have been simple to acquire one for himself, he only wanted a sip. 

“No real reason. Something about inappropriate conduct toward the female staff.” Baelish lowered his lips to the goblet and looked over the rim. Ned understood what he was trying to imply. His eyes flickered toward his daughter who had stilled slightly but continued eating. Baelish placed the goblet back in front of Sansa and leaned back. “Either way it appears Meryn will still hold his knighthood.”

“He is not a true knight.” Sansa muttered and the three other members surrounding the iron table looked at one another. It was a comment that the old Sansa would have made. She continued devouring her food and made no further remarks. Baelish reached over and placed his arm on the back of her chair. His hand rested on her shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. Neither Ned nor Arya missed how Sansa reached up and linked their fingers together. 

“There was something I was hoping to speak to you about.” Ned wanted to change the subject and distract Sansa from such unpleasant memories. They both knew that neither were willing to speak of it again but the truth would always linger between them. “I had hoped Robb would be here but I can always inform him and Roslin at a later time.”

“What is it?” Arya asked.

“I received a raven this morning from Maester Luwin. The banner men from the Riverlands reached the North quickly and are assisting our Northern men to overtake the Iron Borns. It won’t be too long now. Once everything is settled, I plan on taking us back to Winterfell. I am hoping to be able to give both your mother and Rickon a proper burial. They will be put to rest in the crypts beside Bran.”

The table remained silent but Arya nodded. She did not want to leave King’s Landing yet, she wanted to see her plans through. Winterfell would be a very difficult place to go home to. Arya was strong and knew that while it would eat away at her, the ghost of Winterfell wouldn’t control her life. She would walk through those gates with her head held high and pretend that the loss was not tearing her apart inside. She knew that her father would not be able to handle the grief once he was back at Winterfell and she had be strong for him. 

“Once everything is settled I will have the cost of the repairs sent along with you. Do not worry about the expense, I have gold to spare.” Baelish muttered in a snarky tone. Sansa knew that while he was paying for the repairs because Winterfell had been her home, he also enjoyed the fact that he was rich enough that the expense would not cause him any type of financial ruin. It still baffled her how wealthy Baelish and now she had become; and their income continued to grow. 

“You’re too kind.” Ned muttered. It was very difficult for Ned to accept Baelish’s kindness. While he tolerated the man who married his daughter, he did not like being in debt to him. Ned felt as though he owed far too him already. Baelish would never ask for the 40,000 gold dragons he paid in order to pull the North out of debt because he was allowed to marry Sansa in the end but the memory still left a nasty taste in his mouth. Now that he was damaging his pride when it came to Baelish, it was only making the pain he felt worse; but he was willing to take the gold because he knew that it was the best option for the North. As much as he hated the thought, Baelish was family now. “Sansa, would you like travel back home with us? To say your goodbyes?”

Arya could feel the tension in both Sansa and Baelish immediately. It was clear that Ned wasn’t extending the offer to Baelish and it was clear that he expected to only allow Sansa to travel back with them. Arya was not sure if her father meant any harm or disrespect in the lack of offer but rather felt that Baelish wouldn’t want to travel the distance or if the invite was implied. 

Sansa remained silent for a moment, letting the thoughts run through her mind. Did she want to go back to Winterfell? Did she want to step on the grounds that she used to call home? The place where she had been raped? The place where Bran had been murdered? Of Catelyn’s and Rickon’s? The place that will always haunt her because of the guilt she now carried? Would she be physically able to be there without the darkness and cold completely consuming her? Could she leave Baelish for that long?

“No.” Ned seemed surprised by her decision. Sometimes it was hard for him to see Sansa as the woman she had been turned into and still imagined her as the small ladylike child she had always been. To him, he thought that she would wish to say her final goodbyes, not running from the closure that he was hoping they all would reach. “I want to stay here.”

“Sansa, don’t you think that-“

“I said no.” The tone was sharp and final. Ned seemed taken aback. Outside of the night that Ned learned that his daughter had been raped, she had never used such a tone with him. It was difficult for him to see his daughter behave so coldly. “I do not want to go back there. Not yet. I’m not ready to be in place where they died. I am not ready. Those walls haunted me every day for two years and I cannot go back there when I know it will only be worse. Maybe one day I can go back. I hope that I can do that but not now. I just can’t.” 

“Sansa-“

“She said no.” Baelish interrupted. His face was set in a cold mask. Ned locked eyes with him and neither waivered. Ned clearly thought that his daughter should return to Winterfell even if it was only for a short period of time. He wouldn’t make her of course but he thought she was making the wrong decision and one that would haunt her. He realized that she had far more demons than any young woman should and just didn’t want to see anymore added to the weight that she carried. “If my wife does not want to travel North with you, then she will stay here.”

“In King’s Landing? Do you honestly think that this is the safest place for her? Do you plan on living out your lives here? In the shadow of the man who raped her?” Ned snapped. No one wanted to speak. Arya’s insides grew tense as her eyes darted between her family members. Sansa huffed and placed her fork down beside her plate. 

“Excuse me.” Sansa pushed her chair out from the table and stood. “I don’t feel hungry anymore.” With that, Sansa strolled around Baelish and left the balcony. She heard Shae call after her but she didn’t stop, she just continued walking. Many thoughts plagued her mind and she thought of Winterfell. She loved Winterfell and it would always be home to her. Once day she would love to set foot in the snow again and feel the cold breeze rush against her skin. She just wasn’t ready for that yet. She wasn’t ready to allow herself to back there when she no longer was the woman who left. She was slowly growing darker and she could feel herself completely slipping away; and she didn’t want to stop it. She didn’t want to look over her shoulder and see the past that she was leaving. Sansa didn’t want to look back but instead she wanted to keep moving forward with the events she set in motion. 

“Sansa.” Arya’s voice sounded behind her and she turned. Arya was out of breath and Sansa realized that she had been running, wanting to put as much distance between herself and her father. While she wanted to savor the time she had with him because of the tragedy they were facing, she couldn’t help but feel slighted by his words. She had hidden the truth from her family for so long and now that they knew and could speak of it, it made it feel all too real for her. 

“I’m sorry. I just couldn’t sit there and listen to him. I can’t go back there. Not yet.” Sansa could feel the tears well up in her eyes. Arya reached out and took her sister into her arms. Arya held her for a moment and allowed her sister to get her emotions out. A few people passed them but none said a word; assuming that the tears were from their loss. The murder of Catelyn Stark and her son had become the most intriguing gossip. 

“You know he didn’t mean it. I’m sure that he is beating himself up about it and I know your husband is having choice words with him as we speak.” Arya stated, causing Sansa to laugh. She knew Baelish would not be mincing his words and it made her happy to think of him defending her in such a matter.   
“I know he didn’t. Doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. I just wanted to let you know that my college classes (online) start back up today. While I have to focus on that, I will still be writing as much as I can, there just might be a bit of a delay between chapters. Also, I am going to the Dominican Republic on Thursday so that also might cause a delay (or will write and post from a beach while sipping on Mai Thais). Who knows.


	50. Chapter 50

Chapter Fifty

It wasn't long before a gift came. 

Ned's temper had always gotten the best of him ever since he was a child. He regretted the words he spoke to Sansa the moment they left his lips. He should have known better than to speak of the one thing she wanted to forget. All he wanted was to keep the remaining members of his family safe and he found that the last place that he would be able to do that would be in King's Landing. He knew that Winterfell would be a difficult place for her, as it would be for all of them, but it never occurred to him that Sansa had far more demons there than the rest of them. While Ned had felt guilty for his words, what bothered him more was how little he knew his own child. There had always been such a disconnect between him and Sansa. When she was cross with him or if she had been upset about anything at all, the only way Ned knew to lift her spirits was to buy her a gift. This nasty slip of tongue was no different. He went out into the city and found the most beautiful silk dress he could. 

The dress was made of black silk with gold accents surrounding it, a perfect dress for mourning. The corset that wrapped around her waist was golden and the skirt had flicks of gold throughout which only became apparent when she walked. The sleeves reached her elbows but left her shoulders bare. The cuffs that folded around the elbow were gold, as was the collar that rested beneath her collarbone. It covered more skin than she had grown to be accustomed to while living in King's Landing but Ned couldn't buy his own daughter something too revealing. When Ned handed her the box, she was still angry but couldn't help but adore the dress inside. She found that she didn't have many dark dresses suited for mourning and the ones she did have, were not as beautiful as this.

She decided to wear the next day and asked Shae to braid her hair simply. She grabbed one of the black chokers and weaved the mockingbird pendant onto it. While the pain was still suffocating, Sansa found that she didn't want to hide herself away in her chambers as she had days before. She called for Lady and decided to stroll through the gardens while her husband was away playing his part as Master of Coin.

Sansa found the garden overrun by Tyrells. Every turn she found another granddaughter or grandson of Olenna but it was clear that she favored none of them, only Margaery. She could understand why, Margaery was beautiful and highly intelligent. She had more ambition than any of the others and Olenna saw a younger version of herself in Margaery. Sansa admired her and how she was so easily able to manipulate Joffrey. She couldn't control him but no one could, not even his own mother was able to do so.

Sansa passed several ferns with roses weaving in and out of the shrubbery. Flowers and ivy littered the stone pathway and Sansa decided this would have been the perfect home away from home for the Tyrells if only golden roses weren’t the only ones growing strong. It was therefore not a big surprise to notice Olenna having luncheon with Margaery, most likely asking for a report on how her betrothal with Joffrey was coming along. The younger Tyrell looked up and threw her a graceful smile. Sansa returned the gesture but continued on her path with Lady following at her heel.

She paused when she heard footsteps quickly approaching. She turned to see Margaery rushing after her. She slowed when Sansa turned, smiling warmly. She passed Lady without a second glance, something few people were able to do. Most paused at the direwolf with fear in their eyes but Margaery had courage and knew that she needed Sansa to trust her. Margaery linked her arms with Sansa's and the two began to walk.

“I'm hoping you don't mind me joining you.” Margaery stated and Sansa smiled at her. She nodded causing the other woman to giggle. Lady trotted after them and Margaery reached down to pet her. The direwolf allowed the contact but Sansa could tell that Lady didn't fully trust her. “I was hoping to have a moment alone with you. It appears that you are rarely out of your husband's or sister's company.”

“My sister and I are very close. We spend as much time together as we can. My family will be heading North soon. I want to spend as much time as possible with them before they leave. I'm not sure when I will see them again.” Sansa was not looking forward to having Arya leave the Capitol but she couldn't help but feel giddy at the thought of separating Robb from Jeyne. Once they were gone perhaps Robb could find happiness with Roslin. She would miss them greatly but Baelish had promised her that they would try and convince Ned to allow Arya to come stay with them once Harrenhal was completed, but that would be a year at least.

“Yes. I am sorry for your loss. I know what like to lose a mother.” Margaery looked down slightly. Sansa didn't know that she had lost her mother. Margaery looked away and there was a sad glint in her eye. “She died a few months before Lord Baelish came to the Reach and arranged my engagement to Prince Joffrey. I often wonder what she would have thought of my betrothed. Either way she would have wanted me to become Queen.” Margaery shook herself and replaced that perfect smile. “Let's not talk about such depressing things.”

“I agree.” Sansa didn't want to talk about death anymore. She felt as though that was all she was surrounded by anymore. She often wondered if the dark pit of death followed her, dragging itself all the way from the snowy cold North to haunt her. However, she wouldn't let anyone see her fear; no one besides Baelish. “What were you and your grandmother discussing?”

“My wedding. Apparently in order for Queen Cersei to gain her son's favor back, she has insisted that the wedding move forward. The King, of course, cannot wait for our marriage but it still rather cross with his mother.” It took everything inside her not to smirk at that. She wanted the Lannisters at each other throats because it would be far easier to kill Joffrey when there were many whom had motive enough to do so.

“Are you excited for your wedding?” Sansa asked, knowing full well that it was going to be a splendid affair, if Robb's wedding was any indication as to how expensive it would be. While she would always be partial to her own wedding, she could not deny that it would be a lavish experience. It thrilled her more so that the bride knew how to manipulate the groom. “I'm sure that it will be beautiful and you will be the envy of every woman in the Seven Kingdoms.”

“I'm excited to become Queen.” While her tone was cheerful as it always was, Sansa could hear the nervous dread in it. Margaery knew that she had Joffrey wrapped around her finger and he would do just about anything for her; but it was clear that she thought it was temporary. Eventually Joffrey would grow tired of her and she was terrified to see that day come. Sansa squeezed her arm and smiled at her. If she had anything to say about it, Joffrey would still be head over heels when he died. “Do you regret it? Not becoming Queen?”

“Not for a second.”

“Then I don't understand what you want.” Sansa didn't reply. Margaery stopped and looked at her. The breeze picked up slightly tossing some of her brown curls. “All the scheming that you and Lord Baelish do, can't be for revenge alone. I know what Joffrey did to you was horrible and the tragedies that seem to follow your family can't be easy; I just do not understand what you goal is.”

“I want to go home. I want to live out my life in peace.” Sansa knew that her husband wanted power and in many ways she did to. However, neither wanted to sit upon the throne. It was far safer and more interesting to be able to pull the strings from behind the throne than to be the one in direct power. “Petyr assures me that Harrenhal should be completed in less than a year. I am hoping to be able to head there once it is ready.”

“And you think Lord Baelish would just be willing to leave all this behind? He does not seem like a man who would be willing to relinquish his intrigues at court.” Margaery was correct, Baelish would never be able to fully leave the game behind, but neither could she. The game had become an important part in their marriage and it was the foundation that it was built on. Even if they did retire to Harrenhal in order to raise their family, many things could be accomplished from great distances.

Before Sansa could respond, the two ladies heard footsteps approaching them. They turned and saw Jaime Lannister strutting towards them. Sansa remembered how he seemed the perfect prince. When she first met him, she couldn't deny the childish crush she had had on him. He was exactly what should be expected out of a knight; until she realized that beauty only ran skin deep. He was Bran's murderer, along with his sister. She had no sympathy for him and no desire to have ideal chitchat, which appeared to suit Jaime because he seemed to just want to carry on his way. Lady's hair stood on end and she growled as he passed. Jaime paused looking at the direwolf and Sansa noticed how his hand twitched toward his sword.

“Lady. Down.” Sansa commanded and Lady laid upon the stone cobbled pathway but her eyes never left the Kingslayer. Jaime didn't move onward, still glaring at the direwolf and Sansa noticed how a few guards that had been in the yard stopped as well. They were Gold Cloaks and Tyrion's men but Sansa wondered if Tywin commanded them to follow him, in order to prevent the twins from falling back into their previous affair. Jaime was in King's Landing only to get to know his new bride. Once the deal was struck, Jaime would be sent back to Casterly Rock with Jeyne accompanying him.

“Well that beast has grown and I hear there are two more just like it roaming the Red Keep.” Jaime's tone held that arrogant confidence that Sansa remembered. She could hear his chilling condolences when Bran fell. At the time she had thought he had been sincere but once she realized the role he played in her brother's death, those cocky condolences haunted her dreams at night. And now, the father of the monster who raped her, stood tall and proud in front of her.

“Kingslayer.” Sansa greeted while looking directly in his perfect green eyes. He winced at the name and it was clear that she had struck a chord deep within him. Sansa couldn't help smile at the thought and wondered if Jaime regretted murdering the Mad King. Did he regret murdering Bran? Sansa realized that she didn't want him dead. No. She wanted him to stay alive in order to watch those around him die. She wanted him to feel that pain of losing those he loved.

“Well, well, it appears that your wolf isn't the only thing that grew.” His eyes traveled the length of her and Sansa felt a wave of disgust go through her. She knew that he was not Joffrey but because of Jaime and Cersei's abomination, her innocence was robbed from her. “It's a shame that your beauty is wasted on Littlefinger. I wonder if his 'finger' is as little as his nickname makes him out to be.” Sansa didn't reply, knowing perfectly well the size of appendage was more than adequate. She just smirked at him and Jaime turned to look at Margaery, who could sense the tension between them. “And here she is, the blushing bride. My nephew must be proud to have such a radiant beauty to call his betrothed.”

“You flatter me with your kind words.” Margaery replied in perfect grace but her eyes continued to dart between Jaime and Sansa. She knew that Sansa hated the Lannisters but this ran far deeper than hate. This was a burning passion of fury that Margaery never understood. There have been people she disliked and even loathed but never with such intensity as Sansa. “Will you be staying for the wedding?”

“Of course. I wouldn't miss my nephews wedding for anything.” Sansa wondered if he would actually be permitted to stay for such an extravagance. She knew that Tywin wanted his children separated at all cost in case they strayed toward past inclinations. However, she knew that her father was hoping to leave for the North, but not soon enough. Not sure this phrase fits here

“Interesting.” Jaime and Margaery turned to look at her. She laughed lightly and brought her fingers to lips. Her laughter grew louder and almost hysterical. Margaery laughed lightly but she was looking at Sansa with complete confusion. Sansa held up her hand and placed the other on her chest. “I'm sorry. Pardon my rudeness. I just find it humorous how you call the King your nephew.” Her eyes locked with Jaime's. After a moment he huffed.

“I wonder what other secrets your husband dared to share with you.” Jaime crossed his arms and his eyes narrowed at her. She could tell that he seemed uneasy that she knew the truth of his relationship with Cersei. It was only natural that he was curious about other secrets she held of court life.

“My husband tells me everything.” His relationship with Cersei, Bran and his family's dealings were common knowledge to her. She wanted to play the fool for Cersei but the moment she sat down to luncheon with her before she was arrested, it was clear that her act was up. Now it was time for Cersei to see the cards she held, when Cersei held no power anymore.

“I don't understand?” Margaery stated in question. Sansa gave her a small smile and linked her arm with the future queen's. It was clear that she was not used to being the one who was ignorant in such matters. “What are you talking about?”

“I promise that I will tell you one day but not yet.” Sansa replied, speaking more to Jaime than she was to Margaery. It was a threat and all three of them knew it but only Margaery was unsure of its implication. “And I hear that Joffrey is not the only member of your family that is soon to be wed. I hear congratulations are in order. Jeyne seems like a fine woman.”

“She is.”

“Pity it is not the woman you want.” Jaime said nothing in reply but only glared at her. It was clear that neither Jeyne nor Jaime wanted this marriage to follow through. Margaery cocked her head and suddenly something became clear to her, or at least she thought. It was clear that Jaime was in love but not with the woman he was promised to. She wanted to find out who this woman was and why Sansa found an interest in her. The sounds of cobbled stones moving reached their ears and Shae was quickly approaching them. She seemed frazzled and concerned. 

“My Lady, can I have a word?” Shae's accent was thick and Sansa knew that it only deepened when Shae was concerned. It was how Sansa knew when her handmaiden had been fighting with Tyrion and when she appeared concerned for Sansa's wellbeing. It was her tell and the fact that Shae was willing to interrupt her when she was speaking with someone outside of her family, almost frightened her. Sansa could excuse the rudeness and blame it on Shae not being native of Westeros but she knew that it would be a lie. Shae knew the customs well enough to know her role.

“Of course. Excuse me.” She smiled politely at both Jaime and Margaery before leaving them behind. After a few paces, Sansa looked over her shoulder to see Margaery linking her arm through Jaime's. Sansa assumed that Jaime would be put through an interrogation but she wondered if he would be intelligent enough to realize it. After putting enough distance between herself and those who she left behind, Sansa turned to Shae. “What is the matter?”

“I need to inform you of something but not here.” Sansa nodded and the two continued to stroll away from the gardens. They headed toward the cliffs that hung over the ocean, thankfully only a short walk away. While Sansa rarely made use to the cliffs, Baelish had told her they were useful when wanting to conceal a conversation. The waves made it difficult for anyone who wanted to eavesdrop upon them. 

The cliffs were square in shape, consisting of tan dust covered stones. The waves were loud, hitting against the rocks forcefully. There were stairs that led down onto an enclave closer to the water but far enough away that there was no risk of flooding. A stone bench pressed up against the rocky side of the cliff. Sansa could see the imprint of people’s steps in the stone and realized how often the enclave was used for clandestine meetings. 

Sansa strolled toward the small bench and sat down upon it; Shae followed suit. Lady stretched out and laid down upon the dusty stone. It was rare that the white and grey direwolf had the ability to fully stretch her body. Lady mewled slightly, enjoying the sun hitting her fur causing Sansa to wonder if she ever grew warm being in such a hot place. Shae giggled lightly at the wolf’s antics and Sansa took a moment to fully appraise her handmaiden. It was clear that the woman was worried and part of Sansa’s mind wondered if she was the first person she had come to with her concerns or if she was second or third in line. Where Varys and Tyrion aware of her worries? 

“What troubles you Shae?” 

“I’m not sure what to make of it, it could just be useless gossip among servants but I know that if it were true, it would concern you.” Sansa felt a prickle of pride at the thought of Shae becoming a spy of sorts for Sansa. She knew all of her husband’s spies and eyes in King’s Landing but she didn’t have any of her own. If she could fully sway Shae into her service and away from Tyrion and Varys, perhaps Shae would be her very first. “I was down by the water washing one of the black dresses you wore the other day and there were a few other servant girls there. I don’t know them well but they like to gossip about their mistresses.”

“They like to gossip?” Sansa asked with a smirk on her lips. She cocked her eyebrow cause Shae to roll her eyes. It was clear that Shae never said anything that would cause Sansa to worry, at least not to any of the servant girls. While Sansa might be concerned about her relationship with Tyrion and Varys, she knew that Shae was far more intelligent than to spread anything about her and Baelish to any servant girls. “I trust that no gossip about me and my husband pass through your lips.” she said all the same, not wanting Shae to know how much she really knew about her dealings with both Varys or Tyrion.

“Never.” Shae vowed. “Anything that happens in your chambers, stays there. I would never betray your trust.” Her words held a conviction that made Sansa smile. She liked Shae and enjoyed her company and it was clear that those emotions were replicated. Sansa reached out and squeezed her hand, urging her to continue. “One of the handmaidens was there gossiping about her mistress and was making no attempts to hide it.”

“What was she saying? And about who?” 

“She was saying that her mistress is no longer a maiden. About a week ago she entered her mistress’s chambers to find blood on the sheets and not enough to be caused by her courses. She also noticed a gentleman leaving her chambers early in the morning every day for the past week.” A knot formed in Sansa’s stomach and her mind jumped to the worst conclusions. “Apparently this woman is to be married soon.” 

“Who is her mistress?” Sansa’s voice was hoarse and she could feel bile rising up in her throat. The nausea consumed her and Shae could see that her mistress was in distress. Sansa’s back was ridged and her shoulder’s squared. The hand that was clasped with Shae’s tightened, her nails digging into the pale skin for the foreign woman. “Who does she serve?” 

“She serves the Westerling family. She is Jeyne’s handmaiden but I think she reports to her mother Sybell Westerling.” Shae was hesitant in her words and could tell that Sansa was growing more and more concerned by the second. “I can’t be certain if that is true but I have been told the handmaiden is paid to spy on Jeyne and report her findings to her mother.” Sansa scowled. It was clear that Sybell Westerling would have already been made aware of her daughter’s tryst. 

“And who was the man leaving her chambers?” Sansa knew that answer but she needed it to be confirmed before taking action. She knew that the damage control would be drastic and that there would not be much to be done if the Westerlings and if the Lannisters were already made aware of Jeyne’s little tryst. The deed was done. “Who was it?”

“Your brother. Robb Stark.” The bile that had been threatening to rise in her throat succeeded and Sansa darted from the bench were they had been resting to heave over the ledge spilling her breakfast into the sea. Shae drew Sansa’s braid over her shoulder and pulled some lose stray pieces out of her face. Once everything was completely out of her system, she took a deep breath, allowing her stomach to settle. 

“Have you told anyone else?” 

“No one. I promise you.” Sansa nodded and pursed her lips, tasting the bile on her tongue. While it was clear that Sybell would be made aware of the affair, if she didn’t already know, she wanted to make sure the Lannisters remained ignorant for as long as possible, at least until she could have a few words with her brother. If the servant girl’s lips were as loose as they appeared to be, the news of Jeyne Westerlings ruin would be common knowledge by morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI all! Welcome back to another chapter. I wanted to let you know that I sat down and drafted a chapter by chapter outline of the rest of the story and we are looking at about 120 chapters give or take. I hope that you don't feel that it is too long because I don't want any of you to grow bored of this story. This is my baby....really, its like my child.


	51. Chapter 51

Chapter Fifty-One

The silence had a deathly feel, perversely invading every corner of the room and numbing each one of them. Everyone had so much to stay but none of them wanted to be the first to speak. While there was nothing but silence between them, their minds were a mass of chaos. Disappointment, fury and plotting mingled with the silence. Three different emotions intertwined with three very different people.

How to voice the obvious without sounding unfeeling was becoming difficult for Sansa. She knew what needed to be done and it would pain her greatly to do so. She watched her father berate himself in silence. He was disappointed in Robb as they all were, but Ned felt that he taught his son better than to be unfaithful. Ned had married a woman he only knew through letters from his brother and remained faithful to her, even though she believed otherwise. He grew to love Catelyn with his entire being and he knew that over time, Robb would grow to be fond of Roslin but only if he allowed himself to do so.

Ned's eyes flickered to the grate and he almost wished he could build a fire, however the summer heat reached an unbearable temperature. The South was far warmer than the North and he hated it. Perhaps the heat only matched the foulness of his mood. Ned had always tried to preach honor and faithfulness to his children and he wondered where he failed. Two of his children were dead, one was reckless, another cold and distant and his eldest unfaithful. Everything he feared his children might become came to be.

Sansa pushed herself off the plush sofa and walked over to the window, staring out into the night sky. She crossed her arms and gave a frustrated huff. She and Baelish had been there for hours, waiting. They had dined with her father and Sansa told him everything she had learned from Shae earlier in the day. Ned had been disappointed and Sansa was counting on that. Perhaps disappointment would be enough for Ned to take his son and daughter-in-law north.

The evening meal came and went and Sansa wondered whom her father would have dined with if Baelish and she had not imposed themselves upon his. Arya was out exploring the castle grounds, or so her father thought. Sansa didn't have the heart to tell him the truth, that his youngest daughter was out arranging another man's death. Roslin was dining with her brother for the evening. It was obvious where Robb was. Sansa had the urge to march toward the Westerling chambers and pull her brother from the arms of his lover, however Baelish's eyes told her to show restraint. He held her back and prevented her emotions from getting in the way. Baelish walked to where his wife was standing and wrapped his arms around her middle. She leaned back into him and simply stared into the darkness.

“I think it would be best if you went North.” Sansa’s voice rang out and Ned knew that it was directed at him. He had wanted to go back to Winterfell the moment he set foot in the Capitol but the events that seemed to plague their movements in King’s Landing prevented him from acting on his desire. Then with Theon’s attack on Winterfell, heading north became more difficult than it should have been. Ned leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his brown hair hanging in his eyes.

Sansa turned toward her husband and kissed him on the lips, a small peck before untangling his arms. She walked gracefully over to the couch that her father sat upon. It was soft green in color and she realized how bare their chambers felt compared to the ones Baelish had prepared for them. It didn’t feel like a home and she knew that their bleak surroundings only amplified Ned’s depression. Sansa hated seeing her father feeling so alone and she knew that it would only become worse once he returned to the North and Catelyn’s ghost filled every shadow and corner. She sat beside her father and reached out to take his calloused hand in hers.

“So eager to get rid of me?” Ned joked but that glint in his eye was gone. All of Sansa’s life she could remember the gentle glint in her father’s eye that would always make her believe that the world was a good and honorable place. When Bran had been pushed from that tower, the glint had faded some but still burned inside of Ned. Now, it seemed the death of another child and the love of his life extinguished it completely. Sansa knew she would never see it again and it made her realize how much she missed it. Now that it was gone, she knew that she had forgotten about it, pulled so deep into her own suffering that she forgot to see the joy that was right in front of her. She would never be able to see that again.

“Never. I would never want to be rid of you. If anything I want to hold you all close and never let any of you go but I want to keep you safe. While it may not seem like it right now, after what has happened at Winterfell, but it is the safest place for you all.” Sansa paused and smiled gently at her father. “Robb has made a terrible mistake. I’m sure Jeyne Westerling is a wonderful girl but she is engaged to Jaime Lannister and we all know that the Lannisters are dangerous. I don’t want Robb to have the same fate as Bran.”

“We don’t know for certain that the Lannisters were the ones who sent the assassin after Bran or if they were the ones who pushed him.” Even Ned didn’t believe the words he was saying. Bran’s murder was the whole reason why he broke the engagement off between Sansa and Joffrey. While none of them could prove Lannister involvement, they could feel it deep down in their bones and that was without the knowledge Sansa held. “He could have just slipped.”

“None of us believe that.” It came out as a whisper.

“Then come back with us. I can’t justify leaving you behind in King’s Landing.” Ned stated and Sansa sighed. She knew that her father was not going to let the subject go. “Lord Baelish would be more than welcome to come to Winterfell if that is what you are concerned about.” Sansa smiled at the generosity. She knew it was difficult to convince her father that she needed to be in King’s Landing without explaining her desire to kill the king. He must be desperate for her to return to Winterfell if he was inviting her husband to stay for an undetermined amount of time when he has made it very clear of his dislike for him.

“Even if my wife wished to leave the Capitol, I would not be able to leave my duties. I have been away from the small council for a year and the finances were a mess upon my return. I cannot afford to leave now. If Sansa wished to leave and return North, I would not stop her but she has made if fairly clear that she does not wish to do so.” Baelish walked behind the soft green sofa, trailing the tops of his fingers as he went and placed his hands on the back of it.

“I’m just not ready to go back there. Please understand that.” 

Ned sighed and nodded. He didn’t want to leave Sansa in the Capitol but knew that if he was going to make the preparations to leave, it was something he was going to have to come to terms with. The three of them looked up when they heard the door to the chambers open. Robb stepped through and the anger that had slowly been leaving Sansa, roared its head again. 

“Well, look who actually decided to sleep in his own bed tonight! Don’t tell me Jeyne tired you out already.” Robb froze in his tracks, with wide eyes.

“Sansa.” Ned hissed out in warning and Baelish placed his hands on her shoulders in order to keep her seated. He could tell that Sansa was more than ready to lunge at her brother. While Baelish adored his wife, he had to admit she did have a streak of that famous Stark temper. “Attacking him will not fix his mistake.”

“It might not fix his stupidity but attacking him makes me feel better.” Sansa snapped back at her father. She turned back toward her brother and narrowed her ice blue at him. “Were you even trying to be discreet or did you completely forget that Jeyne would have a handmaiden cleaning her sheets? A handmaiden who does not know how to keep her lips sealed about her mistress’s affairs.” Out of the corner of her eye she could see the corners of Baelish’s lips perk up at her pun.

“Jeyne trusts her handmaidens.”

“Then she is a fool.” Robb’s eyes hardened but he was not able to interrupt. “But apparently so are you. What could you possibly be thinking! She is engaged to Jaime Lannister! The Kingslayer! Her mother is fucking Tywin Lannister! I mean you can’t get any closer to the Lannister without being one! Have you forgotten that they had a hand in killing our brother? She is going to be the wife of the man who push-“Baelish placed a hand on her shoulder and she paused. While Robb knew that the Lannisters could possibly be behind the man who was sent to kill Bran in his sleep, he was not aware of Jaime pushing Bran from the tower. While it may be one thing for Robb to learn the news, it would be another for Ned to hear it. The last thing they needed was for Ned to call Jaime out in public or raise his banner man against the South because of the recent events between the North and the Iron Islands, the North would not win a war with the South.

“What my wife is trying to explain is that it is one thing to have an affair, neither one of us could care less if you fucked another woman, any woman really. If that is what you were looking for I'm sure we have enough girls in our employ who would suit you. I would even let you fuck as many of them as you wanted for free if it meant that you stayed away from the Westerling girl.” Robb sneered at Baelish's words as though he had offended him. Robb had always been stubborn and it was something Sansa used to admire about him but now she found it tiresome. They had tried to separate them, planting the seed early in Ned's mind, allowing him to preach about honor and keeping the vows you made. Sansa even threatened Jeyne but it seemed to all be for nothing.

“There is nothing honorable or good in buying a whore.” Robb's voice was menacing as though Baelish was far beneath him. Sansa made a move to stand but Baelish prevented her from doing so. While Sansa felt insulted it appeared that her husband was not. He was used to such insults from men who despised him.

“And neither is breaking the vows you made to your wife.” Robb's head snapped away from Baelish and Sansa and toward their father. The disappointment was clear in his eyes and they could see Robb's shoulders slump. He ran his fingers through his dark curls, not knowing what to say to his father. “While I do not condone Lord Baelish's source of income, at least he has always been faithful to his wife. Unfortunately I cannot say the same for you.”

“Well at least that makes one of us.” Robb sneered but his gaze never left Ned. “How can you preach to me about being faithful? About keeping your vows? As I recall you have bastard son. I grew up with him and I called him brother. Don't pretend that you are better than me because you were no more faithful to my mother than I am to Roslin.” Silence filled the room again, sucking the life out of each of them. Ned's glare never wavered from his son but he took the insult. Sansa knew that her father never strayed from her mother but he wouldn't say so. He had kept the truth behind Jon's parentage for years and wasn't about to spill that secret just yet.

“This is what is going to happen. We are heading north as soon as we can. Until then, you are to stay away from Jeyne Westerling. If you go to her again, then you will never be the Lord the North deserves.” The tension between Ned and Robb was frosty. Sansa had faced a long winter that was warmer than the emotion between the two of them. She knew that Robb would never listen to her and the only person he respected was their father. She almost felt guilty for forcing Ned's disappointment in her brother but she knew it was the only thing that would motivate him.

“I love her.” The conviction in Robb's confession made Sansa look away from him. She felt Baelish's hand take hers and she forced herself to look Robb. Ned sighed and stood. He walked over to a cart that was perched against the south wall. Upon the cart was wine that was left from dinner. Ned poured himself a hefty glass and brought it to his lips. Sansa noticed that her father had been drinking more since they reached the capitol but it only got worse once the news of her mother's and Rickon's death reached them. She could see her father spiraling down a dark path. The loss of Catelyn would turn him into a man Sansa wouldn't recognize. “And I loved Jon's mother, more than you will ever know. Now leave. All three of you. I want to be alone.” 

Robb turned on his heels and headed toward the spiral staircases that lead to his personal chambers. Sansa stood from the couch and strolled toward her father. She reached out and placed her hand on his shoulder. She could feel her father tense under her touch. He turned and the look in his eyes made her heart break. She was often told that she looked like her mother and it was as though he was looking at Catelyn. She hugged him and reached up to kiss his cheek. He grabbed her hands and squeezed it and Sansa let him. Part of her didn't want to leave him alone but she knew that she had to. Arya would be back soon, as would Roslin and they would care for him. She looked too much like her mother with the Tully hair and Tully eyes and if she stayed it would push her father into a drunken state rather than help him.

Baelish took her hand from her father's just as he did the day they married. Sansa kissed Ned on the cheek one last time before allowing her husband to lead her out. When they closed the door, the unmistakable sound of a man crying could be heard through the wood. Sansa forced herself to put on foot in front of the other, focusing on the crackle of torches as they passed. She leaned into Baelish's arms and held him close as they walked. She thought on her father’s words about how he loved Jon’s mother. She hoped that Robb would learn from them, even if he didn’t know the truth behind them. She knew that her brother was ignorant when it came to the truth about Ned’s love for Jon’s mother. She could only assume that he would imagine that their father was in love with a woman who was not his wife but in the end, chose to be faithful to his wife. She could only hope that he would make the same decision he imagined their father had to make at one point. 

Her mind wondered to Jon and was curious as to what he was doing in that exact moment. There was still no word from him and she had thought that he would have at least sent something to Arya. Her sister was growing worried at the lack of contact from him and how uncharacteristic it was for him to abandon the brotherhood. The Knight’s Watch had become his life and his love; he wouldn’t break those vows without a great reason. 

“There is another matter we need be concerned about.” Baelish’s thoughts invaded hers. They were reaching their own chambers and nodded. Baelish pushed open the door and saw that Shae was waiting for her mistress to return. She stood but Sansa didn’t pull away from her husband. “I will help Lady Baelish tonight. You may retire.” Shae nodded and gave a small curtsy. It was obvious that she was concerned about Sansa. When Shae told her the news of Robb’s affair, Sansa had not been able to keep the food in her stomach down. Shae had noticed small changes in Sansa’s behavior, only things another woman would notice, and was growing concerned. Shae walked out wooden door that lead into the corridor and left the couple alone. 

“I used to admire my brother, strange how that changed. It’s this place, King’s Landing. It’s toxic. I can only hope that my father’s words sink in. At worse they will be leaving for the North and Robb will never see her again.” She felt Baelish pull away make slow work on the laces of the golden corset that was secured around her waist. Once she was free of the hard fabric, Sansa felt as though she was able to breathe. The black fabric hung loosely around her frame. She leaned back into her husband’s arms that wrapped around her in the same place the corset had been. “I’m exhausted.” 

“Grief and stress will do that to you. It appears that you have been suffering from both for the last few weeks.” Baelish placed a kiss on her shoulder. They stood in the middle of the chamber simply holding each other. “Robb has spent every night this week with Jeyne; there is a chance that she could be with child. If she is not, then there is a chance that Tywin will still force Jaime to marry her. If she is with child, then there is no way Tywin would risk her child becoming heir to Casterly Rock if he cannot prove who the father is.” 

“I know.” Sansa pulled away and went into their sleeping chambers. She pulled her black and gold dress off, folding it before putting it away in her trunk. She turned, only in her shift, and watched as her husband prepared for bed. “There is a chance that Jaime might just refuse to marry her completely now. He does not want her, he would find any excuse to avoid that marriage.” Sansa sat down upon her truck and slowly undid her braid. Baelish pulled his coat off and flung it over the plush chair in the corner. Once he was in nothing more than his breeches, he strolled over to his wife and held out his hand. She took it willingly and he pulled her up into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and captured his lips with hers. The kiss was soft and gentle. Once they broke apart, Sansa rested her head against his shoulder. “What do you do when the girls are with child? I’m sure it has happened.”

“It depends.” Sansa pulled away, looking surprised. “It depends on who the child belongs to. There are a few girls who are exclusive to one man in particular. In those cases, it would be easy to prove who the father of the child would be. If the bastard can be of use to me, then the child will be born. For example, I had a girl who belonged exclusively to King Robert and when she got with child, she kept the babe and I made sure they were provided for. For the girls who service anyone, well moon tea is easy to come by in the Capitol.” 

“What happened to the King’s bastard?” 

“King Joffrey ordered that all of King Robert’s bastards were executed. The infant was murdered.” Sansa nodded, remembering the wreckage they happened upon during their travels. She wondered what happened to the faceless boy named Gendry. Was he alive or had his lifeless body been thrown somewhere? “It was poorly handled. Ros was rather shaken about it. She grieved for the child. I thought for a moment that she might turn into a bad investment but she became happy soon enough. You know I hate bad investments.” 

“And I’m sure your encouragements had nothing to do with her returned spirits.” Sansa liked Ros well enough and she was very competent in the role she played at the brothel. Baelish leaned down and kissed her gently again. She knew her husband was a dangerous man and if Ros displeased him, he would have no problem having her discarded. While he cared for his girls and boys, he also made sure that they never displeased him, because displeasing him would be a very dangerous move. If one of his whores ever caused him to lose gold, then he would make sure his loses were mitigated. “Would you be able to get me some? Moon tea that is?” Baelish looked at her in question. “Not for me.”

“I could. I could bring it to you, or you could ask Ros for the key. I keep it in the closet in my solar along with a few other delicate things I would prefer to keep hidden.” Sansa smiled and wondered what treasures her husband hid from the world. Sansa knew what Moon Tea tasted like, having drank it after Joffrey had spilled himself inside of her but she was unaware of what it looked like before it was brewed. 

“I think it would be best if you retrieved it. The last thing I want is to grab the wrong thing or have Ros questioning why I would need it. Neither of us want a rumor floating around that I am trying to get rid of any of our potential children.” Baelish gave her that rare smile she adored and kissed the top of her head. He placed his hand on her flat stomach and Sansa linked her fingers with his.

“No. We wouldn’t want that.” Baelish’s eyes poured into her with that unanswered question. Sansa didn’t reply but only kissed him. She was suspicious but it was far too early. If she was indeed carrying his child, she didn’t want to tell him and then be wrong. Their lips mingled together for a moment before they broke apart. 

“If you get the tea for me, I will make sure Jeyne drinks it and then it wouldn’t matter if she was carrying Robb’s child or not.” Sansa leaned up and kissed him again. She pressed herself against him and felt his arms wrap around her. When the broke apart, Sansa slipped the shift down, allowing it to pool at her feet. “Enough talk. Take me to bed.”

“I thought you were exhausted.” Baelish teased her and Sansa took his hand, leading him to the bed. She sat down upon it and scooted backwards. Baelish climbed on top of her, and lightly pushed her back onto the mattress. She giggled and trailed her foot up his covered legs.

“For you? Never.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I know I know. I'm awful. I know you guys are itching for a smut scene and it is coming. I promise. I just have a few chapters to get through. 
> 
> So, my vacation was a no go. Apparently the lovely hurricane Erika (yes yes yes, I recognize the irony) was hitting the Caribbean when I was to be there and my flight was cancelled. I was able to get my refund back (or in a couple of days anyway) so I will have plenty of time to write. I'm still taking my time off of work and other than school, I can focus on Boden for the most part.


	52. Chapter 52

Chapter Fifty-Two

An iron table covered with white lace, a china set at the very center, resting on a silver tray and all manner of cakes, cookies, fruits and cheeses arranged in an inviting manner, as well as plates and napkins for two. The two iron chairs were arranged at a respectable distance between women trying to get to know each other better. Sansa had Shae set up the table in a neutral space in the Red Keep, a corner of the garden often frequented by ladies in their afternoon stroll. She had chosen this precise location because it was warm and open and she was trying to convey to any passer by that this was a tea between friends. 

She didn’t want to invite Jeyne back to her personal chambers nor did she want to invade the poor girl’s personal space. What needed to be done had to be done in public and in a place that many people would pass by. They both needed to appear friendly and non-threatening. It would be best to do such things over a luncheon were no one would be the wiser. If she was going to cause a woman to unknowingly lose a child she may or may not be carrying, she was going to do it with class and elegance. Sansa was a lady after all.

She had gone to Shae and asked if she was knowledgeable on how Moon Tea was brewed. The one and only time Sansa had to taste the bitter mint liquid was when Arya brought it to her. At the time, she had been so shaken she had not even considered that she might be pregnant with that monster's child. Asking Arya about the tea was useless, since it had been Master Luwin who had brewed it for a servant girl Theon had gotten pregnant, or so Arya had led him to believe. The old master was not fooled but surrendered the tea gladly.

Shae had questioned why Sansa would be interested in Moon Tea and when Sansa assured her it was not for herself, the girl nodded, agreeing she knew how to brew the tea and would do so and make sure that Jeyne Westerling received the invitation to luncheon. The handmaiden knew what her mistress intended to do. Sansa could only hope that she was right in trusting Shae but if she was wrong, she could not see how the Lannisters would be disappointed in preventing her brother's bastard child from being born.

Sansa leaned against a tall white pillar in the archway, arms crossed and waiting. She was early but knew that she needed to be in order to make sure everything was prepared. She had chosen a sleeveless, light blue dress as the summer weather would not allow anything long to cover her arms. The top was simple but the silk skirt billowed out in a lovely way. She wore a silver chain around her neck and the mockingbird pendant nestled between her breasts. It wasn't mourning clothes but Sansa was tired of mourning. She would grieve for her losses for the rest of her days but right now she needed to be Sansa Baelish, a woman with very few weaknesses.

She heard footsteps and turned to see Jeyne walking toward her. She was stunning, Sansa couldn't deny that. Her hair was down, as was Sansa's, but Jeyne's had a curl to it that Sansa's did not. Her dress was pink and modest, far more modest than the dress she had worn to Robb's wedding. Sansa wondered if the reason her dress was so modest was to hide any marks her brother left on her body. The only times Sansa wore dresses like that, ones that covered her from foot to throat was when Baelish got a bit overzealous in his affections.

Sansa pushed off the pillar with a wide smile and strolled toward her with open arms. Jeyne seemed suspicious by welcomed the embrace that Sansa gave and accepted the kiss that was placed upon her cheek. It was false and they both knew it, but causing a scene in public would not be wise. Sansa knew that they were being watched by many of the spies that lingered in the Red Keep. 

“Jeyne! I’m so glad that you were able to join me.” Sansa proclaimed and linked her arm through Jeyne’s covered one. “Please, come join me. I tried to convince my sister to have lunch with us but she said she was far too busy.” Lie. Sansa didn’t inform Arya of her intentions with Jeyne nor did she invite the younger woman to lunch. She knew that Arya wouldn’t be distressed by Sansa’s plans but she was rather distracted. Arya had grown distant since coming to King’s Landing and Sansa could see the weight that H’ghar had placed on her was taking its toll. After Lancel’s death, she had hardened herself and their most recent loss didn’t help matters. Arya had two more names to give and once those were completed, Sansa had the feeling that her sister would be finished in her revenge. It would also prove useful that the less people who knew about the true nature of the luncheon she was holding the better. She intended that secret to be kept between Shae, Baelish and herself. The less people who knew, the better. 

“I almost didn’t come but I couldn’t deny that I was curious.” Jeyne stated and looked over her shoulder. Two guards were standing by the two pillars located near the garden’s entry. It was clear that Jeyne was still under guard, possibly more so now that her mother realized how Robb was able to slip into his lover’s room so easily. “I will tell you that we do not have much time. My mother did not want me to meet you and once she realizes that I left anyway, she will be furious.” 

“Must be exhausting having to be babysat at every turn. It’s almost as though she doesn’t trust you. I wonder was prompted such distrust?” Sansa smiled sweetly at her and led her to the table. Jeyne sat in the chair with her back facing the guards. Sansa wanted to keep her back toward the shrubs because the more she could see, the easier it would be to tell what was coming her way. “Tea?” Jeyne nodded and Sansa waved Shae forward. 

Shae poured the tea into two small cups and placed one in front of her mistress before setting the other in front of Jeyne. Sansa picked up the china cup and brought it to her lips. She could smell the bitter mint tea and felt it touch her lips but never allowed the liquid to enter her mouth. It was important that Jeyne think she was also drinking. It would not do for the hostess not to partake in the festivities. People grow suspicious. Once Sansa sat her own cup down upon the lace cover, Jeyne was drinking her own, gulping it down quickly. She made a disgusted face and put the cup down. Sansa held back a pleased smile. The deed was done.   
“Bitter.” Jeyne scrunched her face and reached for a sweet, hoping to take the taste from her mouth. 

“Yes. It’s a tea that we commonly drink in the North. Perhaps you would like something else?” Sansa offered, taking a lemon cake. Whether Jeyne wanted another type of tea brewed would be irrelevant. She drank enough for the tea to take affect; only a drop was needed and she drank an entire mouthful. “I can ask Shae to brew something else, it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“No thank you. I’m perfectly fine.” Jeyne gave Shae a kind smile. The handmaiden nodded and turned away from the table. She moved to stand a few paces away, waiting for Sansa to need something. “I’m curious as to why you asked me here today. It wasn’t just to drink tea and eat cakes.” Jeyne leaned back into the iron chair and crossed her arms. It was clear that Jeyne thought that she was smarter than she was. Sansa didn’t think that the girl was dumb but rather naïve and sheltered. 

“I felt as though we got off onto the wrong foot. I fear that the night my brother married I had far too much wine. Something my husband warned me about once.” Sansa gave a small chuckle. It was the very first bit of advice Baelish had ever given her. “And I wanted to see how you were doing. I know what it is like, being ruined in the eyes of everyone at court.”

“Please. Don’t pretend to be concerned about me. You don’t care if I’m ruined or not.” Jeyne snapped. It was true, Sansa didn’t care if Jeyne was a maiden or not, just as long as the man she took to bed was not her brother. “And our situations are a bit different are they not? I gave my maidenhead willingly while you did not. Everyone here knows what I did and they judge me for it, as though they never sinned themselves.” Sansa was silent for a moment, just taking the other woman in. It was clear that Jeyne was hurting and it wasn’t from the public’s opinion of her. She was certain that Jeyne did not care what they thought of her but perhaps the fact that her mother kept her under lock and key was starting to take a toll on her.

“We’re not so different, you and I.”

“I’m nothing like you.” The conviction in Jeyne’s tone was almost insulting but Sansa ignored the jab. She just sighed. It was obvious now that Jeyne still felt as though she was the heroin in a fairytale. She was the princess locked away in a tower, forced to marry a man she didn’t love. Enter the valiant prince who would save her, and the two of them would ride off into the sunset. Sansa had that exact same dream once, only her prince turned out to be a monster. She only hoped for the poor girl’s sake that once her dream was shattered, it was done gently. 

“Not now of course, but I wasn’t always this way. I had a gentle heart once, like you. I believed in love and true knights and good triumphing over evil. The stories we hear and the songs we sing are all lies. Life is not a song. Someday you may learn that to your sorrow.” Sansa smiled at her but it was clear that she did not want to hear her. “It may have been exciting, sneaking around, thinking that you wouldn’t get caught. Trust me, I know, but the reality is, you were a maiden and he is married. That can never have a happy ending.” 

“If this is a warning to stay away from your brother, don’t worry. He already told me that we can’t…that we need to stop this. He said that in a few weeks he will be leaving for the North and that it was important that he try and make the most out of his marriage with Roslin. He said that the North was dependent upon it. So, there. I’m sure that makes you happy.” Jeyne looked as though she was close to tears and Sansa almost wanted to reach out and take the girl’s hand in hers but she refrained from doing so. The news that her brother decided to use his common sense and end his relationship with Jeyne did make her happy. She only wished that he had done so before he ruined her completely. 

“It does.” Jeyne huffed and made a move to stand from the table. “It’s not that I hate you Jeyne or I want you unhappy but my concern is for my childhood home. I did my part. My marriage pulled the North out of debt and Robb needs to do his to keep it that way, especially now that it has been attacked. This isn’t personal.” Jeyne crossed her arms and laughed as though she didn’t believe a single word that Sansa spoke. 

“Yes. You seem so unhappy in your marriage, doing your duty.” Jeyne laughed again but it was bitter. “I don’t understand how you can stand being married to him but you seem happy with your husband. Yet, here I stand being shipped off to a man who would rather bed his own sister than ever marry me.” She froze with her eyes wide and fearful, as though she spilled some secret that was not meant to pass her lips.

“So you know of that little secret. Where did you hear it?” 

“You don’t seem surprised.” Sansa shook her head and Jeyne retook her seat. “When Mother first told me I was to marry Jaime, I was distraught. I had met your brother by then and I had hoped that…I don’t know what I hoped. I eavesdropped on my mother and Lord Tywin. I overheard him telling her that perhaps I could be a distraction for Jaime. That I could give him heirs to Casterly Rock and keep him away from his sister.” She was disgusted by Jaime’s actions and Sansa couldn’t blame her for that. 

“You do understand how dangerous that secret is? If someone heard you, you would be dead by morning.” Sansa urged, her eyes darting around, hoping that no one overheard her. While she wanted Jeyne away from Robb and it appeared that her wish would come true, she didn't want the girl dead. It was part of the reason why Sansa and Baelish held that secret close to the chest. “It would be wise if you never said a word of it.”

“Death would be better than marrying him.” Sansa had to resists the urge to roll her eyes and proclaim that the girl was being over dramatic. While she hated Jaime Lannister with every part of her being, he wouldn't be a cruel husband to Jeyne. She could do far worse. She moved to make a retort but stopped when a stern looking women was forcefully marching toward them. 

“Jeyne!” Sybell Westerling was approaching and Sansa thought she looked perfectly regal. Her thick brown hair was piled on top of her hair and her emerald dress trailed behind her. There was a deep slip that ran between her breasts. If she had been a curvy woman the dress would have been ill fitting but since Sybell was boney and flat chested, it clung to her perfectly. The bodice of the dress was held together by three small broaches that look like white clamshells, the Westerling sigil. “Go back to your chambers. Now.”

“Mother I was ju-”

“Now!” Jeyne's shoulders sagged and she turned away from Sansa, her brown curls bouncing down her back. Sybell reached out for her daughter's arm but Jeyne pulled it away forcefully, never looking at her mother once. She walked toward the two guards who moved forward once they saw their mistress approach. Sybell reached out to take Jeyne's hand but she yanked it out of her mother's hand. Jeyne made her way toward the guards. “Make sure she does not leave her chambers!” Sybell moved toward the table and sat down in front of Sansa. She picked up the china cup and brought it to her lips. She nearly laughed when the bitter tea touched her lips. “Well, you are clever.” 

“I did not want a child to be born between them any more than you did.” Sansa eyed the woman distrustfully. Sybell chuckled, placing the china cup back on its saucer. Sansa waved toward Shae and told her to clean up the cakes and tea from the table. “I warned Robb to stay away from Jeyne but apparently my pleas fell on deaf ears.” 

“Oh, I know you did. I know that your husband informed Lord Tyrion of the time my daughter was spending with your brother and I am thankful for the intervention but my Jeyne has learned to escape her bodyguards since she was a young child. While I appreciate your concern, your brother still ruined my daughter.” Sybell eyed Shae as she continued to clean the table. It was obvious that Sybell knew that Shae was Tyrion's mistress because the older woman made sure that Shae wouldn't be able to hear a single word she said. Sansa knew that the Lannisters were fractured but their distrust for Tyrion ran far deeper than even Sansa realized. 

“I'm sure that Tywin couldn’t care less about if Jeyne was a maid on her wedding night, just as long as any child she bares is be Jaime's. I just made sure of that.” Sansa said, the panic filling up inside of her. The fear coursed through her because the look in Sybell's eyes was dangerous. She was more than Tywin's mistress, she was using him for the power he could give her. “I see no problem.” 

“Tywin does not care about that but Jaime does. He does not want to marry my daughter any more than she wants to marry him.” Sansa shifted in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest. “When you give Lord Baelish a child, you will understand. You will want that child to have everything. Your brother can give nothing to my Jeyne but Jaime can. Tywin promised that she would become Lady of the Rock, just as long as she continues the Lannister legacy.” 

“Again. No problem. Tywin will force Jaime to marry her. They will go off to Casterly Rock, avoid each other until they have to make a child. Easy. Lannister Legacy continued. My brother and Roslin will go North and raise children there, and all is right with the world.” Sansa stood, feeling the need to be far away from her. “Now, if you will excuse me, I find that the rest of my day will not include you or your daughter.”

Sansa turned away from Sybell but felt that boney hand grab her arm. She was yanked and forced to turn around. Sansa was taller than Sybell but not by much. She was not forced to look down as she was accustomed to with most people. Even her husband was smaller than her, not that she minded. She looked into Sybell's eyes and saw fury there. It was a fury that Sansa could relate to. It was one that she felt everyday and she knew that it was not going to fade away with one cup of tea.

“You would like that, wouldn't you?” She gripped harder when Sansa tried to pull her arm away but Sybell was not allowing her to do so. “You would like everything to just wrap itself up in a nice bow and go away. Thinking a simple cup of Moon Tea will magically bring my daughter's virtue back?” Sansa didn't reply but continued to glare at her. “If Jaime does no marry her, a debt must be paid and Tywin will make sure that it is.”

“Is that a threat?”

“A warning.”

“Well I thank you for your kindness, now if you would excuse me.” Sansa pulled her arm out of Sybell's grasp. The two women continued to stare at each other and perhaps it was due to her age but Sansa was the first to look away. She turned but could feel Sybell's eyes glaring at her. She picked up a few plates and brought them over to where Shae was standing. Sybell turned to leave but decided to have one last word in before she left.

“I do appreciate the tea, it saves me from having to brew it myself and force it down my daughter's throat. She would have known exactly what my intentions were but she is a bit blind when it comes to others.” Sybell stated and Sansa crossed her arms. Shae continued to busy herself with the clean up while Sansa just glared at her. She felt a small twinge of guilt start to brew inside of her. She knew that Jeyne loved her brother but a child could never be born between the two of them. Sansa did what she had to do but she also knew that she would hate anyone who forced her to lose Baelish's child. 

“She will experience some cramping tonight and some light bleeding, whether she was with child or not. It won't be any worse than pain caused by her courses.” Sansa stated and Sybell eyed her but it was gentler then. It was clear that Sybell had never taken the tea herself and never had to experience the pain first hand, even if she knew what the tea smelled and tasted like. Sansa wondered who she had helped abort their child in a past life. 

“You've taken the tea before.” It wasn't a question. Her eyes traveled over her. Curious if it was her husband's child she had gotten rid of. Sybell knew the thought was ridiculous, it was no secret that Baelish wanted his name to live on and a child would be required for that. If Sansa had wanted to never carry his child, then she would be in for a serious marital disagreement. 

“Would you want to carry Joffrey's child?” Sansa proclaimed, answering the other woman's silent question. Sybell grinned and nodded her head. Anyone who had to bear that monster's child would have her pity. Sybell turned and started to head in the direction Jeyne had gone but did not get very far. She paused when the bells began to sound overhead. She looked around in confusion. 

The bells were so loud that Sansa felt the ground shake. These bells were never rung, ever. Everyday, in the distance she would hear a chime of a bell indicating that it was midday. These bells were different and Sansa looked around. The people in the garden seemed fearful and concerned. 

Something was wrong. Sansa turned and saw that Olyvar had rushed over to Shae, whispering to her in a hushed tone. His lips moved quickly and Shae was nodding. As quickly as he had come, he had left. Shae looked toward her mistress and rushed over, her bottom of her skirt fluttered as she walked. 

“What is it?” Sansa reached out and placed her hand on Shae's arm. Shae's dark eyes were wide and concerned. She bit her lip and grasped Sansa's hand. Her eyes darted around, making sure that no one would overheard them. She leaned in closely. “What happened?”

“A small council meeting has been called. It is urgent. A messenger has been sent for Lord Baelish and all members of the council to congregate in the council chamber immediately.” Shae paused again but Sansa was impatient; she demanded to know what had happened. “They think that there was an attempt on the King's life. A poison dart was shot at him but missed. Whoever did it obviously didn't know what they were doing because it hit a member of the King's guard instead.” 

“Which guard?”

“Ser Meyrn Trant.” Sansa felt her breath catch in her throat and her heart still. The man who held her down as she was raped was now dead. She knew who shot the dart and he didn't miss. That dart was not meant for the King. Two names were down and there was one left to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Another chapter! I figure most of you will not be surprised by the second name that Arya gave. However, what do you think of the moon tea and Mama Westerling?? It won't be the last time we hear from her.


	53. Chapter 53

Chapter Fifty Three

The chamber used for small council meetings was made of stone, like most of the Red Keep. Elegant tapestries hung on the walls and a plush carpet covered the wooden flooring. A long table stood in the center with chairs surrounding it, presently occupied by members of the Small Council.

Tywin was sitting at the head of the table appearing concerned, with the age lines creasing in his forehead. Tyrion was by his side, a goblet of wine positioned perfectly in his chubby hand. It seemed as though every small movement others made caused him to continue to drink. Bronn, still acting as Commander of the King's Guard, sat by Tyrion's side, looking bored, cleaning out his fingernails and flicking the dirt on the table. Across from Tyrion was Cersei whose eyes where red and puffy. She continuously bit at her nails and eyed the dwarf across the table. It didn't take a brilliant man to realize that the mere thought of someone killing her son would put Cersei's nerves on edge, nor that tensions between her and her younger brother were at an all time high. Beside Cersei, Pycelle, ever the sycophant, was trying to calm the erratic Queen. Varys was beside Pycelle and couldn't stop staring at the mess that Bronn was creating. It almost made Baelish, who was across from Varys, smirk in his direction. Varys hated messes and Baelish could see how hard he was biting his tongue not to ask Bronn to stop his disgusting habit. Now was not the time cause a fuss, as the King was pacing back and forth furiously.

They all had seen Joffrey angry before but never like this. He had been angry when he learned that his father had been murdered, angrier when he realized Cersei's involvement. Yet, the mere thought that someone dared to even attempt to assassinate him pushed him beyond fury and into a shear rage. 

He was pacing to the point that Baelish thought he was going to wear a hole in the carpet. He was constantly running his fingers through his golden hair, messing it about. The crown that had sat upon his head since the day he was crowned King had been put aside, long forgotten. 

As he paced, Jaime was leaning up against the wall following the King. While the Lannisters tried to hide the fact that they were no longer one big happy family, Baelish quickly realized that the Kingslayer held no love for the son he was forced to call nephew. Whereas Cersei was willing to make allowances for Joffrey's behavior, Jaime only saw the monster that rested inside the boy. On a few occasions, Baelish thought that he saw Jaime's hand twitch toward the sword that rested on his hip, almost as though he wanted to run Joffrey through. He wouldn't of course. While it would not be the first king that Jaime slayed, his love for Joffrey's mother stayed his hand. Jaime's engagement to Jeyne Westerling had caused quite the disagreement between the twins and the rest of the family. Cersei, still begged for her father's approval but she was angry with him. Jaime felt as though he was backed into a corner, having to take a bride that did not desire. It would be against the laws of nature to take Cersei as his wife, no matter how much he wanted to. 

Baelish wondered if Jaime knew of Cercei’s affair with Lancel and how he would react if he learned of it. While it was obvious to those who were privy to the twin's secret that Jaime still held Cersei close to his heart, she had clearly moved on with her affections, if they were ever genuine in the first place. She didn't want her brother to marry Jeyne, not out of affection or love, but because Jaime belonged to her and she didn't want another person claiming him. It was the same jealousy that was brought out when she thought about Margaery becoming Queen. If Sansa had married Joffrey, the timid girl she had been would have been easy to control. Margaery was not and it was one of the many reasons Baelish suggested her for Joffrey's bride. 

“Your Grace, I think it would be best if you take a seat.” Tywin's baritone voice sounded and Joffrey stopped pacing. Joffrey appeared beyond crazed, with his eyes wide and his hair completely disheveled. For a split second, Baelish wondered if that was what the Mad King had looked like. 

“You want me to sit! To relax? Someone is trying to kill me! I am the King and someone dares to attempt to kill me!” His shouts echoed off the stone and filled the room. No one wanted to say a word because everyone at that table, except Cersei, had at one point imagined getting rid of the young King. Cersei pushed her chair back and moved toward her son. She placed her hands on each side of his face. 

“My sweet boy, please come and sit. We will figure this out.” Cersei soothed but Joffrey pushed her away, making her stumble slightly backwards. While tormenting his mother had been entertaining at first, he had grown bored of it, like he did with most of his toys but he still treated her like she was nothing more than scum on the bottom of his royal shoe. Jaime stepped forward slightly when Cersei stumbled. She didn't hit the ground but Baelish wondered how a woman could be so completely besotted by the child that abused her. 

“Don't touch me!” Joffrey seethed and he skin turned a few shades redder. “For all I know you arranged this! You killed one king, how can I not be sure that you won't kill another?” His eyes flashed toward Jaime and gave a merciless laugh. “You and your brother, Kingslayers! The Kingslayer Twins! Doesn't that just sound perfect! You do everything together, why not this? You eat together, you drink together and you even fuc-” 

“That is enough Joffrey. Don't be cruel to your mother.” Tywin had heard enough and wasn't about to allow his grandson spill the deepest of the Lannister's secrets. Baelish had to wonder if Tywin realized that everyone at that table, except perhaps Pycelle, knew of the incest that occurred between Jaime and Cersei While is was still a secret from the rest of the Seven Kingdoms, the members of the small council were skilled at discovering secrets people wished to keep buried. 

“I am the King! I can be cruel to whomever I please!” He hissed at Tywin but the older man didn't budge, his glare steely and hard. 

Baelish shifted in his seat, watching the power struggle between the two. He kept his face impassive but he was greatly enjoying the slow breaking of the Lannister family. He had always intended for them to fall, all the way back when he bankrupted the entity of Westeros, but since Sansa entered his life and his bed, it became all the more personal. It was not just business for him anymore.

“You're right. You are the King, so start acting like one instead of some spoiled prince. You are angry about someone trying to kill you, then find out who did it.” Tywin placed one of his hands on the table and began to tap his fingers. The nails hitting the wood sounded around the room. “And never treat your mother with such disrespect again. She gave you life and you would not be King without her. Remember that.” It was a true statement, if not a hypocritical one, Baelish thought. Tywin often disrespected his children and for him to demand others to respect them was something he found almost amusing. 

“Fine.” The words flew Joffrey's mouth like a hiss. His teeth were clenched and he balled his fist. If anyone other than Tywin had dared to contradict him in such a manner, they would have found themselves locked in a dark and dingy dungeon before they would have been able to apologize. “Lord Varys, you are the Spider. What whispers have you heard about someone planning my death?”

“Nothing Your Grace.” 

“Nothing!” Joffrey whipped around and Pycelle whimpered at the loud scream directly by his ear. “What good are you if you cannot even do your job! I asked who was conspiring to kill my father and you couldn't even realize that it was my own mother! Now I am asking who wants to kill me and you have nothing to report?! What use are you?” 

“I apologize for you displeasure but I can assure you that I have heard no whispers of a conspiracy to end your life.” Lie. There were many people out there who wanted to end Joffrey's reign and Varys knew several of them. “But I don't think that this poison dart was for you at all, my King.” Baelish narrowed his eyes slightly at Varys, something the eunuch noticed. If Baelish were a man prone to rash actions, he would have felt the need to pack his belongings and take Sansa far from the capitol. However, rash was something Baelish was not.

“What could you possibly mean, Lord Varys?” Baelish asked, cocking his head to the side ever so slightly. He saw the corners of Vary's lips curl upward. He was enjoying this and it was clear that Varys knew exactly who sent the dart and who was originally meant for. He was aware of the relationship Arya had with H'ghar, and more importantly, who H'ghar was. If he knew that much, it wasn't hard to Baelish to stretch the idea that Varys knew the part Meryn Tran had played in Sansa's rape and why both Baelish and Arya would want him dead. 

“Exactly what I said. I do not think this dart was meant for the King at all. I believe that the dart met its intended target.” Varys stated and Joffrey huffed. It appeared now that the young King felt insulted that the dart had not been for him at all. “I have seen darts like that before and the poison they carry. They are used by assassins.”

“That is all well but it does not explain why the dart would not have been meant for me at all.” Joffrey leaned against the wooden chair and it was clear that Pycelle was becoming very uncomfortable with the King's closeness. Varys crossed his arm and looked at the King. Baelish had to admire the bravery it took to challenge someone who had no issues with torturing his own mother. “So enlighten me.” 

“A shot like this could only be the work of a skilled marksman, someone trained for it. Only an expensive assassin would have been able to make that shot from such a distance, in front of a crowd and have no one see him. He wouldn't miss. I believe that Meryn Trant was his target, not you, Your Grace.” Varys eyes flashed to Baelish who gave him the slightest of nods in gratitude. The eunuch would not tell the council of Arya's involvement thus keeping Baelish in his position. He never thought that he would find an ally in Varys but he had been proven wrong before. Baelish wondered if Varys knew he had sent Barristan to Meereen and that he had been communicating with him since his arrival, hoping to gain favor with the Queen in the East. 

“Are you as stupid as you are useless? It was obvious that the dart was meant for me and that whoever shot it was unskilled and missed their target!” Joffrey exclaimed and Cersei stepped forward to place her hand on his shoulder, which he shrugged off. Baelish found it highly enjoyable to watch the King become entirely friendless. 

“Your Grace, I think Lord Varys makes a very good point.” Tywin added and Joffrey turned around in a furious manner. “Ser Meryn Trant was wearing his helmet was he not?” Joffrey nodded, eyeing his grandfather in contempt. Joffrey nodded, eyeing his grandfather in contempt. “If someone was trying to kill you and missed their target, the chances of it hitting Trant in the neck while wearing full armor and a helmet is rather slim. However, it is fully plausible that someone wanted Trant out of the way and hired a professional to do so.” 

“Why would someone want him dead? He was only a knight!” Joffrey sneered as though the thought of being a knight was horrible. His tone also spoke volumes as to how he felt about those in a lower station than himself. While he knew that he needed the King's Guard, it was clear that he would spit on them if the opportunity presented itself, if he had not already. 

“You're Lord Commander of the King's Guard, are you not?” Tywin looked toward Bronn, who nodded his head. “Can you think of anyone who would want Ser Meryn dead?” This made Bronn chuckle and Baelish could hear Tyrion snicker as well. Meryn Trant was not someone who had made a big amount of friends while he was in the King's Guard; he was always eager to follow his King's command because the acts he partook in were always viscous. He had gotten a reputation as enjoying beating small children until they bled and were unconscious. 

“Many people wanted the man dead. It would be easier to find someone who didn't. He was a right bastard and even other members of the King's Guard didn't like him.” Bronn shifted in his seat and Baelish could tell that this conversation bored him. “I didn't really like him much myself. Several of the guards complained that he would abuse or brutalize some of the woman of lower classes.” Baelish's memory flickered to some of the girls he had provided for Meyrn Trant in the past. However, once he returned to King's Landing with Sansa and learned of the role he played in Sansa's rape, he refused to accept his business. While there were a few brothels that Baelish did not own in the Capitol, they were not as high class and Meryn Trant's pride would not allow him to frequent such establishments. Baelish knew that the man would have to take his desires out somewhere and servant girls would be the easiest to come by. There were several young girls who worked in the castle and Baelish was certain Meryn Trant had victimized them all. “It wasn't uncommon for a servant girl to leave his chambers beaten and bruised.”

“I told you that we should have had him sent to the Wall and maybe we wouldn't have this problem.” Tyrion drunkenly pointed out. Baelish had remained quiet during that council meeting. The only other member who knew the part the newly deceased guard played in the brutalization of Sansa was Joffrey and the King wasn't intelligent enough to suspect her or Baelish. He thought so little of them, unless he needed something from them. 

“Yes Tyrion, we all should have listened to you.” Tywin stated in a bored tone, as though he was only humoring his youngest child. His eyes never left his grandson and Baelish wondered how much control he actually had over the King. Joffrey was a loose cannon and while Tywin pretended to have some amount of influence over him, the King disrespected him all the same. 

“Yes.” Joffrey pointed toward his alcoholic uncle. “You wanted him gone. How do I know that you were not the one who hired the assassin?” Baelish leaned back in his chair and decided to simply let the whole scene play out. There were times when Baelish would intervene in order to maneuver a situation into his favor, however, this was not one of those times. The best thing was for him to step out of the light and allow the other players to make the moves for him. He had planted the seed of Meryn Trant's death in Arya's mind and if Tyrion ended up taking the fall for it, then that suited Baelish just fine. He was still angry about Tyrion not being able to keep his nephew on a leash and away from Sansa. 

“I wanted him shipped off to the Wall, not dead.” Tyrion rebutted and his words were slurred. Bronn reached over and moved the golden goblet out of the dwarf's reach. “Although, I can't say that I am disappointed that he is dead. Perhaps I should thank whoever did put a price on his head!” 

“He was my most trusted guard!” 

“And he was as psychotic as you, which would explain why you got along so well.” The slurred insult caused the King's coloring to grow five shades redder. He ran his hands through his hair and Baelish could tell that his nails scrapped across his scalp. While every word he stated was the truth, sometimes hearing the truth was the hardest thing for anyone to accept. While blood, violence and cruelty came easily to Joffrey, accepting his nature did not. 

“I am the King!” The angry shout echoed off of the stone and the only other sound that could be heard was the flicker of the torches. Cersei reached out to touch him but pulled her hand back, unsure if her son would want her affection. Her sharp green eyes glared at the brother she hated so much. “You can't speak to me in such a manner!” 

“Which you keep reminding us of and here I am insulting a King, yet my lips are not sowing themselves shut! You may be a King but you're still a man and a man is not immortal; ask Meryn Trant, I'm sure he thought he was invincible as well.” Tyrion's words held a clear meaning behind them; the bastard King wasn't immune to death and would one day die, something Joffrey wasn't intelligent enough to realize. However, Cersei’s mind understood exactly what her brother had meant. “Perhaps the dart was not meant for Meryn Trant at all! Maybe it was meant for you and it was shear dumb luck that you refused my request to have him sent to the wall! Pity, I would have enjoyed bowing to King Tommen!” 

“Are you threatening my son?” Cersei whispered, causing Joffrey to look between his mother and uncle almost in a comical manner. The rest of the council remained silent, wondering where this conversation was headed. Baelish did not want to intervene. It would be best if none of them learned the role he played in Meyrn Trant's death. 

“No, I'm educating my nephew.” It seemed that his drunken state lessened somewhat. It was common knowledge that Tyrion spent most of his time in an inebriated state rather than sober, but it didn't slip Baelish's notice that his drinking increased when his father returned from Casterly Rock. Tyrion enjoyed his few weeks of reigning power and was back again being casted away in the shadows. While his relationship with his father improved when he became aware of the twin's incest, Tyrion was never going to be the favorite child. “If I was threatening him, it would be fairly obvious; even our vicious idiot of a king would be able recognize that.” 

“You can't speak to me this way!” Joffrey hissed and brought his hands to the back of Varys's chair. He squeezed so hard that his knuckles were turning white. Varys turned slightly in his chair to look at the irate King. “I will make you pay for speaking to me in such a way! I am the King and I will punish you for your insolence.” Joffrey's eyes darted around, looking at each of it's members and appeared displeased with what he saw. “The rest of you! Out! Get out!” 

Baelish and the rest of the council minus the members of the Lannister family, quickly made their way out of the small council chamber. Baelish could hardly keep the smile off his lips. There was a small spring in his step as he walked down the corridor. The source of his pleasure was the news of Meryn Trant's death and the fact that with each passing day, the Lannisters grew more and more distant with each other. The fact that the man who was part of Sansa's nightmare was gone could only increase his happiness. He was sure that she knew of his death by now, seeing that the bells indicated something had occurred. Varys fell into step with Baelish but did not seem to be as amused as he was. 

“You seem far too happy my friend, a man just lost his life.” The pair reached the throne room and stood still in front of the chair that held Aegon's blades. Standing before the throne always seemed to the place that most of their debating occurred. “One would think that you’re happy your plan for poor man's murder worked out.”

“I have no knowledge of what you speak.” The infamous smirk played on his lips, causing Varys to huff. He had always thought that Baelish was someone who enjoyed playing the faithful minion, but he knew that he would overthrow them all if he could. He craved the approval of the very men he wanted to destroy. 

“Of course you don't and I'm sure that young girl you now call sister wouldn't have a clue either.” Baelish didn't respond, only smiled at him. He wasn't concerned that Varys would cause any type of trouble for him; perhaps at one time he would have but not now, Varys needed Baelish if his goals were going to be met. “I rather like her, you know. She has a fire in her but I would advise that she watch where she is signing her death warrants.” 

“I will be sure to pass on the information.” Baelish turned to leave him and looked over his shoulder. “But if you would be kind enough to excuse me, I have a wife who is in need of a celebratory fuck. Pity you will never be able to experience such a thing. It is such a release.” The jaunt in his step only increased has each step he took. He could only imagine Varys rolling his eyes as he went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I know it is not exactly what you all are hoping for but I assure you. Big chapters are coming as are smutty ones. 
> 
> Anyway, I also created a Boden's Mate soundtrack on spotify. I uploaded it to my tumblr if any of you are interested. My username on there is ericanoelle. It's a mix of different kinds of music that I have listened to while writing Boden.


	54. Chapter 54

Chapter Fifty Four

The throne room was quiet; not a single soul was willing to move. No one could tear their eyes away from the scene that played out in the center of the marble floor; brown hair sprayed across the beautiful Targaryen design, blood mixing with the strands, the same blood staining the yellow dress the girl was wearing. The quiet replaced the terrified screams that had been escaping her throat, useless because for all her pleading, not a single person ran to her aid.

Everyone was frozen, afraid to breathe or draw attention to themselves. No one wanted to intervene and help the poor girl for fear they would find themselves in the same position; dead in the middle of the throne room with everyone watching, their screams echoing, heard but ignored… They would die in pain, with no one to comfort them, just like her.

Sansa looked at the helpless corpse in the center of the room. She didn't know her. She was nothing more than a servant but unfortunately one who refused the King. Joffrey wanted her but she said no, her self-respect getting in the way. It would have been horrible but she should have taken a hit to her pride. It would have been horrible and she would have come out of the King's chamber traumatized, but she would have been alive. Sansa survived that terror and at one point in time she would have taken the sweet oblivion death offered but she had grown into a stronger person. Now, she wouldn't exchange her life for that never-ending peace for anything.

Joffrey sat upon his throne with a satisfied smirk on his face. His pale face had a few droplets of blood splashed on the side. His golden coat had blood soaked stains and even from a distance, Sansa could see the blood that covered his hands. There was a broken broom handle that was tossed beside the throne. Joffrey had it used to beat the poor girl to her death. A cross bow was also perched against the Iron Throne and it looked brand new. The look upon his face could only be described as a release. The small smile that played at his lips reminded Sansa of the look Baelish gave her when they had just devoured each other.

Sansa tilted her head and could see the blank expression Baelish wore on his face. It was that time of the week again when the King would preside over his court and the members would stand and watch. People would come in front of him and ask for guidance in their problems, however, no one wanted to kneel before a King who slaughtered people on a whim. No one wanted to ask a question if it meant risking their lives and the lives of their family. The fool he murdered at Robb's wedding and now this dead servant girl symbolized the power Joffrey had.

Her ice blue eyes traveled the length of the room and noticed that Tywin was absent. She turned her head and glanced at the balcony, which was empty. She wondered where the Hand was if he was not in attendance, which was mandatory. Her eyes traveled to the throne so see Cersei sitting by his side with her eyes trained on the dead girl. There was no expression on her features; she was nothing more than stone. Tommen and Myrcella stood by their mother, wearing identical disgusted expressions. Margaery was seated on the other side and was as still as Cersei. Margaery's hand was linked with her grandmother's, who stood behind her.

The giant oak doors opening broke the dark spell cast by the dead girl, answering her question regarding the Hand’s whereabouts. Tywin stood tall and his harsh steps confirmed how angry he was. Both of his sons were with him, trailing behind. Tywin paused at the body of the dead girl and his eyes slowly moved toward his grandson.

“Grandfather! Uncles, nice of you to join us.” Joffrey waved his hand around and stood from the throne. “I apologize for starting without you but we couldn't wait.” He slowly made his way down the steps, no one saying a word. Fear was thick in the room and the tension between Tywin and Joffrey was palpable.

“What is going on here?”

“I'm ruling. I'm showing what happens to those who disobey me. She denied me. I wanted her and she refused me. I will show that those who dare deny me will not go unpunished.” The corpse stood between them, acting as a buffer. Neither of them wanted to touch the dead girl and neither would look at her. Jaime's eyes however were trained on her lifeless body and the sorrow that played across his features infuriated Sansa. How can the man who helped murder her brother feel guilt over a death he had nothing to do with? While it was unclear who exactly pushed Bran from that tower, she knew that it was either Jaime or Cersei; they would have been the only people present. “Uncle Tyrion, I have a gift for you.”

Joffrey snapped his fingers and a small door that was located on the side of the hall opened. Two Gold Cloaks appeared, dragging a woman with them. After a moment, Sansa realized that the woman who was kicking and clawing at the men was Shae. They threw her on top of the dead body, which she quickly scurried off of her. Even though the handmaiden's back was to her, Sansa could tell that she was bruised and hurt. Her dress had ridden up, exposing her legs to the court and Sansa could see that her dagger was missing. Sansa and Shae had bonded over the shared habit of keeping their daggers on them at all times. Shae was stripped of that and it was almost as though she was stripped of her identity.

“Move the mess.” Joffrey snapped his fingers and the guards obeyed. While it was Tyrion who controlled them through Bronn, it was clear that they feared their King and fear went a long way. The guards took the wrists of the dead girl and pulled her body to the side, placing her at the end of the stone steps. She was out of the way but still in view of the entire court. Tyrion moved toward Shae but Joffrey held up his hand. “Oh no. Stay right where you are.” Joffrey strolled over to Shae and stood directly over her. “Who are you?”

“My name is Shae.”

“And what is your relationship to my uncle?”

“I'm his lover.” There was not a single murmur in the crowed. Shae had been in court for years and their connection was common knowledge. Baelish had once told Sansa that Shae being at court was a scandal and caused a stain on the Lannister name. Tywin was more than willing to accept the stain if it kept the news of Jaime's and Cersei's affair a secret. Sansa wanted to go to Shae and take her into her arms but Baelish held her back. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. Sansa was shaking and if her husband had not been holding her upright, her knees would have given out, causing her to collapse on the marble flooring.

“Breathe. Stay with me. There is nothing we can do.” While she may not have been entirely certain where Shae's loyalties lay, she cared for her. She was one of the few real friends she had made since coming to King's Landing. She had stayed by her side when Joffrey had beaten her. Her stomach was in knots and it caused a sharp pain in her chest to see Shae being so submissive. Shae wasn't one to be submissive, if anything she was more dominant than most men. “I won't sacrifice you, for her.”

“Uncle Tyrion, do you love her?” Tyrion said nothing but gazed painfully at Shae. Joffrey was impatient and didn't take well to his uncle's silence. “Answer me.” Nothing. Joffrey huffed and reached down. He grabbed Shae's dark girls and pulled. Shae's hands grabbed onto the King's wrist, hoping to dull the pain in her scalp. Her screams were a mix of surprise and pain. Joffrey dragged her and threw her at Tyrion's feet. “Do. You. Love. Her?”

“Yes.” It came out as a whisper. If Sansa couldn't see his lips moving, then she would have not been able to hear him. It was clear that Joffrey thought the same thing because a sick smirk spread across his lips.

“Louder! I can't hear you!”

“Yes. I love her.” Tyrion's gaze turned to steel as he glared at the young king. Joffrey seemed pleased with Tyrion's confirmation. Sansa brought her hands up to Baelish's and linked them together. He said nothing when her fingernails began to dig into his skin. He was holding her and if they were not behind a few people, Joffrey would have noticed the pain that Sansa was in; and he would have enjoyed it, possibly even tormented her, however Robb’s stiff stature blocked her from Joffrey’s view. 

“Perfect.” Joffrey looked down at Shae, who was catching her breath on the ground. Her hand was on her chest, as though she was trying to massage the pain away. Tyrion reached down to comfort her but Joffrey caught his wrist. “Tsk tsk Uncle. No touching.” Tyrion pulled his wrist out of his nephew’s grasp. “Stand up.” Shae did as she was commanded and Joffrey placed his hands on her shoulders. He moved her away from Tyrion, placing her in the same spot that the dead girl had been removed from. 

“This is enough Joffrey.” Tywin’s voice sounded loud and clear. It was hard as stone and full of ice. Joffrey glared at his grandfather, not pleased that he was being scolded like a child. In his mind, the fact that he was King made him an adult and thus never wrong. Listening to his councilors was not something he deemed necessary if he disagreed with them. He would do as he pleased and having someone try and tell him differently was infuriating. “You’ve made your point. Let the girl go.”

“I will do as I please. Remember that you are just the Hand, contradict me again and I will take that pin away from you and give it to someone else!” Tywin said nothing but just glared at the boy. Joffrey turned back to Shae and looked at her from head to toe. “Pity. You are pretty little thing.” With that, Joffrey curled his fist and struck her across her cheek before repeating the same action to the other side of her face. The sound of his fist hitting her skin was the only thing that could be heard in the chamber. When he hit her for a third time, the blow caused her to fall to the ground. 

Joffrey didn’t stop his assault. Instead he continued to kick Shae while she was on the ground, curled into the fetal position. With every single kick, Shae’s sharp cries grew louder and louder but no one moved, not even Tyrion or Sansa. He kicked her harder and harder until it was obvious that Shae wouldn't be able to fight back. Joffrey pulled away and Sansa could see that Shae was holding her side leading Sansa to suspect that her ribs had been broken. 

Sansa had hoped that perhaps Joffrey would grow bored with tormenting her but it was clear that he had not. He gave a crackling laugh and reached down to grab the stick that he beat the other girl to death. He strolled over to Shae and raised the stick. He struck her once and then twice, causing Shae's painful cries to sink deeper and deeper into Sansa's soul. Tears began to fall down her pale cheeks but she didn't make a sound. The hatred she had for Joffrey only grew with each strike of his stick. Joffrey raised the stick again but it froze in midair when a scream echoed from behind him. 

“Stop it!” Joffrey whipped around and saw his sister slowly making her way down the stairs. Cersei reached out for Myrcella but the princess pulled her arm out of her mother's grasp. She walked toward her brother with her gaze never wavering. Joffrey seemed shocked that someone was willing to contradict him. It was expected from his grandfather and even his uncle but he never expected his sister. Once she reached him, Myrcella shook her head, causing her golden curls to sway. Joffrey lowered the stick slightly. “You're a monster. She did nothing to you and you're tormenting her because it gives you some sort of sick amusement because you're nothing more than a monster.” 

“You can't speak to me like this.” The words were hissed through his clenched teeth. His face grew red from anger but Myrcella didn't move, she stood her ground, refusing to give him the power that everyone else instilled in him. “I am the King!” 

“You are. But I can, and I will.” Sansa could feel a tingle of hope bubble inside of her but she squashed it quickly. She admired Myrcella for her bravery but couldn't allow herself to believe that the world would be right again because one person dared to stand up to him. It was silent for a moment before Joffrey tossed the stick down onto the marble floor with a sharp clank. After a moment, Joffrey reached out and weaved his fingers through his sister's hair. He pulled at her hair, causing a sharp gasp of surprise and dragged to toward Shae, who was curled on the floor and holding herself. Joffrey pushed his sister to the ground, his hands still in her hair and forced her face close to Shae's. 

“Look at her!” Myrcella attempted to fight off her brother but Joffrey could easily overpower Myrcella's small frame. Eventually she was forced to gaze upon Shae's beaten body. “Look at her. Defy me again and I will gladly do the same to you. Do not think I won't because you are my sister.” Joffrey tossed her aside as though she was nothing more than trash. Myrcella hit the ground roughly but it only took her a moment before she stood again. 

“Myrcella.” Jaime called out her name softly as a warning. He took a step forward with his hand outstretched as though he was tempting to calm a raging lion. However, Myrcella ignored the warning and turned back to her brother. 

“Do what you want to me, just know that the entire court will hate you for it. You might be King but how long will that last when the King is alone and friendless?” The princess's words had an effect on the crowed because a few whispers could be heard echoing through the throne room. The break in the silence caused Joffrey to grow angrier. The King turned toward the throne and stalked up the stairs. Jaime reached out quickly and pulled Myrcella behind him. 

“Uncle-”

“No! Stay behind me.” Jaime's voice was low but it was loud enough for Joffrey to turn around. He saw that Jaime was protecting his sister and huffed. He turned back to the throne and picked up the crossbow that had been perched against the Iron Throne. The few whispers that had broken out amongst the crowd had vanished and only silence remained. Sansa wanted to let out a gasp but placed her hand over mouth to keep herself quiet. 

“Let this be a lesson for you sister dear. In the game of thrones, you either win, or you die.” Joffrey placed an arrow into the cross bow and cranked it. Once everything was in place he moved down the stone steps again with the weapon perched against his shoulder. He stood still for a moment and aimed for the terrified woman on the ground. Shae looked up and the sight of the cross bow being aimed at her, eyes wide, air sucked out of her lungs.

“Joffrey, think about what you are doing.” Tywin's stern voice sounded but was ignored. A few other members of his family chimed in with request that he not pull that trigger but he didn't seem to acknowledge any of them. His eyes remained trained on Shae with a sick smile playing on his lips. Tyrion step forward with a helpless expression playing on his features. 

“Please.” It was nothing more than a whisper but it was enough. Baelish turned Sansa around quickly, burying her face into his neck. She inhaled the scent of mint in time for the sound of an arrow releasing to reach her ears. Shae's screams made Sansa sob and shake in her husband's arms. Baelish held her tight as the sound of cross bow cranking again. After a moment another arrow flew through the air. It happened again and again until Shae could no longer scream. 

Sansa stayed there in Baelish's arms, pretending the entire thing didn't happen. She knew what she would see once she gained the courage to turn around. She emptied her mind, enough for her to imagine herself back in their chambers with her husband's body entwined with hers. That was the place where she was most happy but in that moment it was real. She inhaled her husband's scent on last time before she forced herself to turn. 

She moved slowly, not wanting to take the scene in all at once. She needed to build up to it before she allowed herself that horror. She turned her head first and looked toward the throne. It was empty of course and the swords that faced outward seemed very fitting at that moment. Her eyes traveled to see Cersei standing with Tommen's arms around her. Cersei appeared completely broken and shocked while Tommen look upon the scene with utter fury. Sansa didn't think that the young prince had the strength in him to truly hate someone but Sansa was second guessing herself. Perhaps Margaery's manipulations brought something out in the prince that Sansa couldn't see. 

The ice blue eyes then traveled to the other side of the throne where Margaery still sat. She was still as a statue, expressionless. Olenna mirrored her as she stood behind Margaery with her hand on her granddaughter's shoulder. Loras had moved and was whispering fiercely in Olenna's ear, his eyes jumping from Olenna to Margaery and to the scene in front of them. It was clear that neither Olenna nor Loras wanted Margaery to marry Joffrey and wondered what they were willing to do in order to prevent that. 

She then moved to see Myrcella silently crying in Jaime's arms. Sansa could see her shoulders shake and Jaime's hand rubbed soothing circles on her back. He kissed the top of her hair and in the back of Sansa's mind she wondered if Jaime ever really got to hold his children. For their entire lives he was forced to play their uncle and watched them grow on the sidelines. Joffrey knew of his true parentage but did Tommen and Myrcella? 

Tywin's shoulders were squared as though he was about to go into battle. His eyes bore into his grandson who stared right back. Tywin had to wonder when he lost full control of the King and how much of a loose cannon he was. Joffrey was willing to completely disregard the advice of the Hand in order to do as he pleased. Any control that he had was gone and by the tightness of Baelish's arms around her, he was thinking the same thing. 

Gathering all of her courage, Sansa fully pulled herself out of Baelish's arms and moved toward the front of the crowd. She stood shoulder to shoulder with Robb whose anguish was apparent on his face. Sansa looked at Joffrey for the first time and saw the satisfied expression on his face. He appeared pleased with himself and the way he stood made it seem as though he had just had the best fuck of his life. The release he showed sickened her, causing the bile to rise completely in her throat. She had seen that look on his face before and it brought back horrible memories of the snow and the cold. Her arms circled around her body, bracing herself for the worst. 

Shae's still body was sprawled on the ground. Sansa could tell that her dark eyes were wide open, staring at the stone ceiling above her. Blood pooled on the marble flooring, mixing her black hair with red and there was a slow trickle that eased its way across the ground. Her dress was covered in blood and fifteen arrows were inside of her. Her hands were balled together as though she had just been in the battle for her life. Her legs were curled under her and her skirt rode up her pale skin. Her body moved slightly and Sansa realized that she was being rocked.

Part of her was perched on Tyrion's lap. His arms circled her and brought her closer to him as the arrows would allow. One of his hands ran through her dark curls as though it was a lover’s touch. Tyrion’s expression was one of complete loss and grief. His sobs grew louder and louder, the sound of grief playing its methodic tune. Watching Tyrion grieve for the woman he loved so dearly was one of the most beautiful and horrific moments she had witnessed. Tyrion leaned down and placed his lips on the crown of Shae's head. He closed his eyes as he gave her one last final kiss before moving away from her completely. 

Tyrion laid her body down on the floor as though he was placing a baby in a crib. He stood and stepped over the body of his lover. His boots stepped into the pool of blood leaving footprints as he went. Once he stood directly in front of the King, Tyrion looked up with complete loathing radiating out of his body. 

“I will hurt you for this.” It started out as a whisper but his voice grew strong as the words poured out of him. “A day will come when you think you're safe and happy, and your joy will turn to ash in your mouth.” Tyrion meant every word that he spoke but Joffrey was overjoyed about his victory that he didn't take his uncle seriously. He was still coming down from his high. He just laughed and turned to sit on his throne once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Runs and hides*
> 
> So, Joffrey is awful. We all know this. I also think that as he got older, he would have only gotten worse. Much worse. I do think over time, he would have grown somewhat more intelligent (not a genius by anyone's standards) but still awful. 
> 
> So, thoughts? Hate me?


	55. Chapter 55

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a case of the Monday's? I do. This should cheer us up!

Chapter Fifty Five 

The highest balcony was hidden in shadows, overlooking the vultures that lingered down below. The sound of their laughter rose up as though nothing dark had ever occurred days earlier. The red stain of blood had been washed away as if it had never been there at all. The court twirled and swayed like any other day. No one seemed affected by two dead servant girls; one of whom many called a whore. 

Sansa placed her hands flat against the stone and leaned, looking down at the cheerful people below. There was a slight breeze drifting around her, making the red curls of her hair to flow in the wind. She curled her fingers and dug her nails into the dusty stone. It wasn't a balcony that was used often, too high up to hear what the King would proclaim but perfect for those who wanted to watch below without being seen.

It was fascinating to spy on people from up high, to watch as they let their guard down when they thought they weren’t being watched, dropping their masks for just a second before donning it back again, dancing like fools to other’s tunes. In court you had to dance to the tune of whoever was willing to offer you what you wanted. If you rose high enough, you even managed to compose some of those tunes while dancing for others above you. Every move in the game was like a well practiced verse and the melody was ever changing.

The only member of the court who did not appear to be pleased was the Master of Laws. Tyrion had all but vanished from the castle. He was still in King's Landing but he had removed himself from the Red Keep, something the King was overly gleeful about. Most of the court had no clue where the dwarf had hidden himself but Baelish knew that Tyrion had taken up residence in one of his brothels. Baelish allowed him to stay there without a charge for the room, on the condition he pay for any girl he took to bed. Baelish proclaimed that he was being generous due to Sansa's fondness of Shae but everyone knew that Baelish enjoyed having Tyrion in his back pocket. 

Sansa couldn’t care less where Tyrion was. The image of him holding his dead lover in his arms haunted her and she also mourned the loss of Shae but anger overtook her grief. She was presented with a new handmaiden, Ros from the brothel because Baelish trusted her. Sansa liked Ros and she would of course do her duty perfectly as well as provide any sort of protection Sansa might need but she wouldn't allow herself to befriend her or get close to her at all. 

She shut her grief down, burying it behind the pale skin she turned into steel. Instead of forcing her mind to dwell on the loss she has suffered, she focused on the burning flames that ignited under her skin. Every second she was forced to look upon Joffrey's face, her desire to commit the worst act of treason overcame her. She never thought that she could hate Joffrey more than she already did but she had once again been proven wrong. 

The scent of mint filled her senses and she felt a pair of strong arms circle around her. She shifted slightly in order to face her husband. She enjoyed feeling his arms around her, it made her feel adored and protected. She hated when she felt people's hands on her but Baelish was the exception to every rule she found. She leaned up and pecked him on the lips. He gave a small sigh and giggle. 

“And what are you doing up here? All alone? In the dark?” Baelish whispered in a husky voice. Sansa smiled at him gently and turned around in his arms. She placed her hands on the stone again, leaning against the railing. A loud laugh echoed from below but Sansa could not place whom it had come from. They had all been silent and still as statues days before but now they flitted about as though nothing had happened. 

“Watching. Learning. Searching.” She didn't move when she felt Baelish's hand move her red hair to the side and place a kiss on the back of her neck. He paused there for a moment, refusing to remove his lips from her skin. She could feel his hot breath against her and a tingle raced down her spine and wetness pooles between her legs. She had not lain with her husband since Shae had been murdered. It was not that she didn't desire Baelish but her emotions took the better of her desires. Every night her husband held her as her tear ruined another silk pillowcase. He said nothing of course, just holding her close as she grieved and she knew it took a toll on him. 

He had been by her side continuously since Shae's death and when he couldn't be, Sansa noticed that a guard would follow her wherever she went. She knew that Baelish ordered it and while she hated the idea of her privacy being invaded, she knew it was necessary. Joffrey had no qualms about forcefully removing Shae from Tyrion's suites, he would gladly do the same for Sansa. Baelish refused to watch his wife be beaten and murdered in front of the court. Shae wasn't valuable to him but Sansa was. He would murder the King in front of a hundred witnesses if it meant keeping Sansa safe. She had asked Baelish what the guard would do if Joffrey did come for her. Baelish said nothing but Sansa knew that if Joffrey came for her, the King would be dead and the two of them would be on a boat crossing the narrow sea before anyone would realize they were gone. 

“What are you searching for?” 

“Loyalty”. Sansa wanted to know who belonged to who and who they would die for. She wanted to know those who served Joffrey, if there were any at all, and she would make them pay for their loyalty. She wanted Joffrey's reign to be completely eradicated, with no trace left in these ancient halls. Even in the history books, she wanted him gone. She wanted no one to know who he was or where he came from. 

“You can keep looking Sweetling but you won't find it.” Baelish whispered in her ear and his tone sent shivers down her spine. She shifted hoping to cause some friction between her legs. It was as though she had an itch that only he would be able to scratch. “Men and women are only loyal to one person and one thing. Themselves and gold.” 

“You're loyal to me...and I'm loyal to you.” Sansa replied and she could feel the smirk growing on his lips as he kissed the small of her neck. Baelish placed his hands on her hips and she could feel the heat from his hands. The weather was growing warmer and her clothing were growing thinner. His hands began to message her hips, causing her to groan. 

“That is true but I am an extension of you and you are an extension of me.” His left hand left her hip and slowly trailed it up her stomach to her breast cupping it into his hand while his thumb flicked over her nipple. Sansa hissed and ground her backside into him, feeling the bulge protruding from his breeches. “Without each other, we are not whole.” 

Once he was done speaking Sansa felt his lips go back to sucking on her neck while his hands worked on her breast. She bit her bottom lip to keep from moaning. While they were hidden in the shadows in the highest balcony of the throne room, she couldn't risk her moans and cries echoing off the stone walls making those below them look up. When Baelish's teeth bit lightly down her back, a small groan escaped her lips as she arched her back against him. 

Baelish's fingers moved against her hip, causing the silk of her red dress to ride up. Once the end of her dress on the left side was bunched in his hand, he slowly trailed it toward the inside of her thigh. The feel of his naked hand against her caused her nails to dig deeper into the stone of the railing. She parted her legs, giving his hand more room to move. He moved his hand up to rest on her hip, allowing the silk to drape over it. 

He linked his finger through the edge of her small-cloth and brought it down her legs. Sansa bent her knees as she felt her husband lower behind her slightly and her small-cloth drop to her ankles. She stepped out of them and kicked them to the side with her sandal covered foot. She had thought that Baelish would ease her ache but his hand never left her hip. She bucked against him, hoping to give him a hint but it only made him chuckle. 

“Patience.” The word was like velvet against her ear. The hand that was still massaging her breast slipped inside of her dress and cupped her completely in his hand. She moved one hand off of the railing and grasped the fabric over his hand. Baelish took his pointer finger and his thumb and took her nipple in between them and pinched. Sansa clenched her teeth and hissed in pleasure. As he continued to pull and tug at her nipple, his other hand made its way toward her center. The touch of his fingers was light but once they made contact with her pearl, the sensation made her cry out.

“Ahh!” 

“Shh. You need to be quiet or they'll catch us.” Baelish twirled both sets of his fingers against her causing the most sinful of tremors to echo through her. She could feel her muscles tighten and constrict with each stroke and pinch. Her hips began to rotate against his lower hand causing more friction. Her head fell back against and her eyes closed, letting the feel of him take over completely. However, he paused his hands when he realized that her eyes had closed. “No Sweetling. Open your eyes and watch them. Continue studying them, it is important that we learn everything we can.”

Baelish refused to continue her pleasure until she followed his orders. Sansa pulled her head from his shoulder. Her eyes fluttered open and she forced herself to look at the gathering below. None of them were wise as to what was occurring just above them. Once Baelish saw that she was focused back on the court, he began to move his fingers again. Sansa clenched her jaw together and her eyes could only focus on a few faces before they all began to blur. She couldn't focus on them as he sinfully violated her body in the most pleasurable of ways.

“Look at the court, what do you see?” His drenched fingers moved from her pearl and toward her entrance. He slipped one finger inside of her before adding a second. His thumb began to press against her clit (not sure if this word is ok with you), continuing her torment. His fingers began to pump in and out of her easily and she bucked against him. She let out a moan at the delicious feel of him. “A moan is not an answer. I need to know what you see.”

“Lies. All lies.” Sansa let out a breathless whisper. Baelish seemed pleased with her answer because he began to increase the tempo of his fingers. Fast and faster his fingers moved in and out of her. He curled them, hitting a sensitive spot inside of her. The contact didn't push her over the edge but she could feel the tightening in her stomach. As Baelish's fingers continued to hit that spot it wasn't long before that familiar spark surged through her. Her toes curled in her sandals and she put her fist into her mouth in order to block out her scream of pleasure. 

“Very good Sweetling.” Sansa knew that he was referring to both her answer and the fact that she was able to bury her screams. “Court is nothing more than an illusion built on lies. What is important is being able to cut through the lies and see everyone for who they truly are.” Baelish pulled his fingers out of her, causing her to whimper. His other hand was removed from her breast and the silk pressed against her sensitive nipple. “Place both hands on the stone.”

Sansa did as she was told and placed her palms against the railing. Baelish pushed her forward slightly so her behind stuck out slightly. Her husband reached out and traced it with his clean fingers and admired her figure from behind. Sansa could hear as he began to undo his laces and when he began to raise the end of her dress. Once the breeze hit her lower parts and the silk rested on her lower back, Sansa had to hold back a moan. He wasn't touching her and the lack of contact was torture because she knew what she was waiting for. She parted her legs farther, spreading herself wider for easier access. 

Baelish took himself in hand and traced the outside of her entrance. She moaned quietly at the contact, waiting for him to sink into her. Baelish paused and then he pushed himself inside with one powerful thrust jolting Sansa forward. He placed his hands back on hips, digging them into her skin. He pulled himself out before trusting back in again. He repeated that motion over and over again, picking up speed as he went. He leaned forward and traced his lips down her back as he fucked her from behind. The pleasure was blinding, making a string of illegible words tumble from her lips. 

He reached up and pulled on her hair. The tug of the locks caused a sweet mixture of pain and pleasure and forced her backwards flush against his chest. The position change caused both of them to hiss in pleasure. The heat of their breath and the sweat of their skin all mixed together. 

“Put your foot on the railing.” Sansa moved her leg and placed her foot on the stone, exposing herself to the entire court. It was to their advantage that no one ever thought to look up. The new position made it easier for Baelish to slide in and out of her. Sansa wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and enjoy the feel of him inside of her but he refused to allow her to take her gaze from the scene below. The laughter had grown louder as one of the heads of some powerful family made what Sansa could assume was a dull joke. She was forced to focus on each of their faces, which was becoming increasingly difficult. 

“Fuck me. Harder.” Sansa demanded and Baelish obeyed. His hips pounded against her harder and deeper. She groaned loudly, not caring if the entirety of Westeros heard her. Down below she saw a few heads look around, and a few looked up but it appeared that none of them saw her; the shadows cloaked them from view. He reached up and turned her head, forcing her eyes to lock with his. He kissed her deeply as he continued to pound in and out of her. Their tongues mingled before they broke apart with the need for air. 

“You can't fight it. The illusion. The court.” His breath was choppy and haggard. It sounded as though he was struggling to keep himself from falling over the edge. He placed his hand in between her legs and started to press his fingers against her nub. The contact caused her head to fly back and her hair to fall completely over his shoulder. She could feel that she was coming close to collapsing from another shock of release. 

“Then what? What do we do? Uhhh…” 

“You fuck them.” The pressure build fast and faster with his words. “All of them. You fuck them until they have nothing left. The Lannisters. The Tyrells. The small council. The King. You fuck them so hard they don't realize what happened. You fuck them till they’re blind.” Hard and harder he went, and she could tell that he was close. Her muscles clenched around him as her spasms took over. She felt Baelish still behind her and his seed empty inside of her. 

The two of them waited for a moment before pulling apart. Sansa whimpered as she felt her husband pull out of her. Her legs buckled and she started to fall. Baelish caught her quickly and they both sunk to the ground with their backs pressed against the stone. Baelish reached out and linked their fingers. He brought her knuckles to his lips and kissed them, as he always did when he had her. Sansa leaned down and placed her head against his shoulder. 

“You just fucked me in front of the entire court.” It was an obvious statement but there was wonder in her voice. Before they were married and they would sneak around Winterfell, there was an excitement to it, at the risk of being caught. When they were married there was a relief and closeness when her husband was inside of her but it was always private. Now that they had each other in public, where anyone could have seen them. It was completely exhilarating. 

“Yes, I did.” There was that overly pleased smirk on his features. Baelish was never one to be ashamed about sex even when he fucked a high lord's daughter before he was even engaged to her. He was as corrupt as they came and the thought only made her adore him more. She didn't want a man who followed the rules and did everything that was virtuous and honorable. Those things would get one killed in the world they lived in. “And you enjoyed every minute of it.” 

“Never said I didn't.” The two shared a look that only lovers understand. It was a look that only a man would give a woman when he knew what she sounded like in bed. She would let that man do anything to her body and she would not even ask for forgiveness in the morning. Sansa shifted and straddled him. She knew that he wouldn't be able to stir so quickly but she settled into him. She leaned down and rested against his chest. “You're right.”

“I'm right about many things but you are going to be have to be more specific.” 

“About fighting them. It's not worth it. You can't fight a King and expect to win.” She pushed herself up and looked at him deeply in the eyes. “No matter how much he is hated, you can't just fight a King without starting a rebellion and a war is the last thing we want.” Sansa huffed in frustration. She wanted Joffrey gone and off the throne. If she could complete that then she would be happy. She would gladly leave court and live out her life in Harrenhal if it meant that Joffrey was gone. 

“A war would not be beneficial, at least one involving the Kingdoms.” His tone was cryptic and that was something she had not heard directed at her since before they were married. Baelish told her everything and never withheld information from her. Now however, her husband was wearing that smug smile and the creases on his face turned upward. There was a mischievous glint in his green eyes that made Sansa's stomach turn.

“Petyr, what do you know?” Baelish said nothing but only looked at her. Sansa waited but he said nothing, instead he leaned in and took her lips into his. He kissed her furiously and his hands went to her hips, grinding himself into her center. Sansa whimpered but pushed him back, causing him to pout. “Tell me.” 

“There is nothing to tell. Not yet.” Sansa didn’t believe him and continued to stare at him. Baelish sighed, knowing that she wasn't going to let it go. “I'm being honest. Nothing is coming, yet. Not for awhile but one day, things will change drastically.” While it was unclear what he meant, Sansa knew that court was not going to be as dangerous forever. “The moment there is something you need to know, I will tell you but not before.” Sansa nodded, knowing that there was no point in trying to gather any more information from him. Baelish could be just as stubborn as she was. 

“Okay.” Sansa moved off of him and she heard her husband moan in displeasure. With a smirk, Sansa reached down to grab her small-clothes but Baelish grabbed her wrists before she was able to grab them. She turned her head and looked at him, noticing that he was sporting a naughty grin. “Petyr?”

“Oh no Sweetling. I'm keeping these.” Baelish picked the small-cloth off the stone and placed it inside of his coat. Sansa's eyes grew wide realizing what his intent was. She would be without her small-cloth for the rest of the day. She could easily go to their chambers and ask Ros to give her another pair but she knew that it would take the fun out of it. “You can have them back. Later. Tonight.” It was a promise and one that caused her to want to take him again. She didn't, wanting nothing more than to draw out the pain in order to cause more pleasure. 

Sansa stood and smoothed out her dress, pressing the creases down. She ran her fingers through her hair and could only pray that she looked presentable. She glared at him for a moment and turned away, moving through the archway. As she began to make her way down the stairs, she could hear her husband laughing and she could only imagine that he was holding her small-cloth. She hoped that the knowledge that she was completely bare for the rest of the day made his squirm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was the smut worth the wait? Didn't add anything to the plot but I thought it would be a welcome break from the last chapter.


	56. Chapter 56

Chapter Fifty Six 

 

After their escapade on the balcony, Sansa decided to return to their chambers in order to clean herself. She was tempted to grab another set of small-cloths but decided to reward and tempt her husband by not wearing any. When Baelish would return to their chambers, he would be welcomed with a surprise. 

Once she reached their chambers, she found an invitation addressed to her on the round table. She assumed Ros had placed it there and she made a mental note to tell her that any invitation should be given directly not left lying around to find by chance. However, Sansa was far too satisfied to scold anyone right then. With a small grin, Sansa picked up the invitation.

The parchment was thick and expensive and bore the Tyrell’s golden rose at the top. She stroked the paper, appreciating its quality. Nothing but the best for the wealthiest family of Westeros… Margaery’s handwriting was in beautiful cursive with the most elegant lines, inviting her to come to her chambers for a visit

Sansa frowned for a moment. She had noticed her friend’s absence from court since Shae's death, even finding it odd but her mind had been far more preoccupied with other thoughts and concerns to inquire further. The invitation gave no time only specified to come when she had a free moment. Clearly the Tyrell princess was not planning on leaving her chambers anytime soon. Sansa's stomach dropped. There was something wrong with this invitation. She did not believe it was some sort of ruse to get her alone by the King; he was far too stupid for that, yet something about the whole thing felt off. Unfortunately, she knew that it would be rude to simply ignore a request from the future queen of Westeros, no matter how ill advised it may be. 

Sansa placed the invitation back on the round wooden table. She turned and walked into the small chamber off to the side that Baelish used as his solar. He had his personal solar located down the corridor but after a few nights when he had to work late, Sansa grew irritated that her husband would be away from her for long periods of time. In order to appease his insatiable wife, Baelish took the small, unused chamber and created a solar that he would be able to use on the nights he needed to work late, usually after his wife fell asleep, most of the time naked between the sheets. 

Sansa looked around the desk and found an unused parchment. She drafted a quick letter to her husband explaining where she had gone. She folded it and sealed it with the mockingbird sigil on the outside. She pursed her lips together and blew on the seal, helping it dry quicker. She reached down and felt the strap that held her dagger, making sure it was in place and went back to their common chamber. She looked out onto the balcony and saw Lady sprawled out, enjoying the sun. Sansa called for her and the wolf perked up before she made her way toward her mistress. 

Sansa greeted her wolf, scratching behind her ears before opening the door. She walked toward the guards that were always stationed outside their chambers. She handed the letter to one of them telling him to deliver it to her husband. The guard nodded and headed off, leaving the other to accompany her. The guard had not been able to look at her in the eyes since she left that balcony. He had been waiting outside the archway while she and Baelish had their escapade. There were times when the world faded away when she was with Baelish. He was the only person who could make her forget herself. 

The distance between their chambers and Margaery's took about thirty minutes. The guard and her wolf walked faithfully by her side as she passed a few members of the court. No one seemed to blink an eye at the guard, many high powered men had their wives followed at all times; most of them not very trusting. It was the wolf that still caused them to bulk. Once she reached the guarded door that led to Margaery's chambers, she ordered the guard to stay beside Margaery’s own guard, Sansa made her way and knocked on the wooden door. 

“Who is it?” Margaery's voice cried through the wooden door. Sansa could hear that it was broken and tired. There was a hint of fear to it as though she was terrified who might be on the other side of the door. 

“Lady Baelish.” The footsteps behind the door were quick. Sansa could hear the bolt moving hastily. The door whipped open and before Sansa could take in her appearance, Margaery grabbed her wrists and pulled her into the chamber; allowing Lady to follow. “Margaery, what-”

Sansa stopped short as she looked at her friend. Margaery always looked immaculate and beautiful but Sansa had never seen her in such a state. Her chocolate hair wasn't curled; it hung loosely at her side with simple waves through it. There was no gorgeous gown only a silk robe that was tied tightly around her middle. However, it wasn't the lack of splendor that caught her eye but the purple bruise that covered the right side of her face and the deep cut above her eye. When she moved her hand, the silk sleeve shifted down to her elbow and Sansa could see a bright red handprint. As Sansa looked at her, Margaery moved her hand to touch the cut, wincing slightly.

“It's not has bad as it looks.” Margaery's voice was low but she quickly put a smile on her lips. She passed Sansa and went to a large oak table in the center of the chamber. At the far end was a luxurious four-poster bed. These were not the Tyrell's apartments, these chambers were set aside just for Margaery. Sansa supposed there were some perks to being the future queen. “Would you like some tea?” 

“Margaery. What happened?” 

“This? Oh you know how Joffrey gets sometimes. I said the wrong thing. It was my fault.” She couldn't face Sansa when she spoke those words; both knowing they were false but the lie was necessary. Margaery was to be his queen and in order to survive him, she needed to say the right thing at the right time. When she didn't and if she blamed him, a bruised face was the last thing she would receive. She would be lucky to escape with her life. “Tea?”

“You and I both know that’s a lie.” Margaery faltered slightly but continued brewing the tea. Sansa looked around and noticed that there was not a single servant in the room. She must have been alone all day, only sending a guard out with her invitation. It would appear that Margaery did not want anyone to see her in such a state. Sansa sat down in one of the wooden chairs, feeling the velvet brush against her back. “I would love some.” she said, gesturing towards the tea.

“I shouldn't have fought with him about his uncle’s lover. I thought killing her served no purpose. I tried to spin it as though I enjoyed watching her die but didn't see the purpose. He told me that I am never to correct him again and that this was a warning.” Margaery continued to brew the tea but her hands began to shake. Sansa could hear the china clinking together and the liquid spill over the sides slightly. The redhead tried to push down the emotions that stirred at the thought of Shae. It was clear that Margaery had forgotten that Shae had been Sansa's handmaiden. “I just can't keep watching him kill innocent girls. I see them every night when I close my eyes and every few weeks he adds another girl to the list. I have to pretend to enjoy it.” 

Margaery dropped the china onto the table causing it to shatter and the tea to spill onto the wood. She started to shake and wrap her arms around herself. It was clear that Joffrey's attack had shaken her and that she was not expecting such violence. Sansa pushed herself away from the velvet-covered chair and walked around the table. She took her friend into her arms, and Margaery collapsed against her. Sansa led her to a beautiful purple couch under the window and helped her sit down. She saw a handkerchief placed on top of the nearby table, grabbed it and handed it to the sobbing girl. 

“I'm so sorry.”

“How did you do it?” Sansa froze but it appeared that Margaery didn't notice. Sansa closed her eyes and the Weirwood appeared before her. She could see the flowing red leaves against the darkened sky. Her skin felt cold as snow and the edges of the steel boxes where her emotions were stored began to crack. “What he did to you, this is nothing compared to that. Yet, here you sit one of the strongest people I know. How do you do it? How do you wake in the morning after have gone through something so horrible? How do you let your husband touch you?” 

“I wasn't always this way. For days after the attack I was comatose. I didn't get out of bed, even when the Queen came to see me. It wasn't until after the royal party left Winterfell that I found the strength to pull myself out of bed. That was when I learned the story that Arya spun about Wildlings attacking me and Maester Luwin brewing me Moon Tea. I barely remember asking Arya to cover for me and not tell the truth.” Margaery pulled away from her and looked directly in her eyes. Sansa could see the tears begin to dry. Her weak moment was slowly starting to fade and the strong, self-assured Margaery began to reappear. 

“Your family? They don't know?”

“They know now. Hiding something like that was far easier in the North when the only people who knew the truth was me, my sister and our Maester. I worked very hard to bury the truth but once we arrived, it wasn't even a day before my father was pounding on Petyr and my’s door, demanding the truth. And if I'm honest with you, I lied to myself for years and it wasn't till I was confronted with the truth that I accepted what happened to me.” Margaery didn't reply but continued to look at her. “As far as Petyr, his touch is the only thing that made me feel alive after so long of being numb.” 

It was relieving to be finally be able to be honest with someone else. Besides Baelish, she was the first person she had been truly honest with since that night in the Godswood. While she was honest with Arya, she always held back when it came to her sister. She never lied to her but Sansa never told her everything either. Except for the night Ned came to their chambers to demand if she had bedded Joffrey, and the news of her rape was broken to her family, this was the first time she sat with someone who was not her husband and was completely honest.

“While I don't understand how you can have that with Lord Baelish, it pleases me that you do. It’s something I'll never have.” Margaery looked down at their linked hands and squeezed. Sansa realized then that she wasn't the only person who felt suffocated by King's Landing. Margaery was a strong woman, possibly the strongest she knew, but that didn't make her immune to the toxic environment of King’s Landing. “I don't want to marry him. I want to be Queen. My family wants me to be Queen but to be married to Joffrey? Would a crown upon my head be worth it?” 

“What did your family say when they saw the bruises?” Sansa asked but her friend didn't reply. Instead, she avoided eye contact and pushed herself away from Sansa. Margaery stood and walked over to the table. She grabbed a cloth and began to soak up the spilled tea before it dried. While she wasn't close with any of her servants, Margaery was known for being incredibly kind to them. That was one of the traits that made everyone adore Margaery; she was kind and welcoming to those who were deemed below her, even reading to orphans and donating food to those who did not have it. However, those thoughts only played in the back of Sansa's mind as she realized that Margaery must have had no contact with anyone outside the guards who were stationed at her door. “You haven't told them? How?” 

“I love my grandmother and Loras and even my father but none of them have the best bedside manner. I told them that I had a stomach bug. My grandmother sent a Maester to make sure I was well and when he reported that I should be better within a few days, they were pacified.” It almost made Sansa sad that none of Margaery's family had come to her side when she was ill. Even her mother had always stood by her children's bedside when they had fallen ill and if Sansa was honest with herself, Catelyn had been a selfish person; especially when it came to her husband or Jon. “I paid the Maester handsomely for his silence.” 

“Pycelle?” 

“No.”

“Good. No matter how much you paid him, Cersei would know by now. Although, I wouldn't assume Joffrey hasn't told his mother or even Tywin. I will ask Petyr if his violent tendency toward you have been mentioned in the small councils meetings. Has Cersei visited you?” Margaery shook her head and Sansa furred her brow. “Odd but I think you are in the clear for right now. If Joffrey had told his mother, she wouldn't have waited to make an appearance in order to gloat or fake sympathy. She did so with me before King Robert took his party and headed South. Although, I think she would want to gloat over you instead of sympathy. She really despises you.” 

“I know. Is it wrong that I find some sense of joy in that?” Sansa shook her head, completely understanding the feeling. “Although, I know why Joffrey wouldn't run to his mother. They are not as close anymore and Joffrey raves about how he does not trust her, something Cersei blames me for. He is becoming extremely paranoid and even more reckless. Even Tywin can't control him, as we both experienced the other day in the throne room.”

“I will promise that you won't be married to him forever. We just need him on the throne a bit longer.” Which was something Sansa wasn't exactly clear on but Baelish insisted on it. She knew that her husband wanted the young king dead almost as much as she did but he was resisting. She knew that it wasn't because he was second guessing the thought of regicide but rather Joffrey was needed. “Besides it would be rather suspicious if Joffrey suddenly so soon after an attempt on his life.” 

“Joffrey told me that the small council deemed the assassination attempt was not for him but for his guard.” When Sansa didn't reply right away, Margaery raised an eyebrow and grinned at her. The action caused her to wince slightly. “But you knew that already didn't you?” Again, Sansa remained silent for a moment, not wanting divulge too much to Margaery. While she liked the future queen, it wasn't wise to tell her too much and her connection to the guard's death was one thing she was not willing to spill. 

“Petyr is on the small council.” She reminded Margaery but wanted to change the topic quickly. She didn't want to focus too much on the death of Meryn Trant mainly because only a few people knew the role he played in her rape. If that knowledge became known, some would begin to question her and Baelish's role in his death and by extension, Joffrey's safety. Even Ned had looked at her questionably once the guard had been reported murdered but said nothing. “Can I ask you something? And you can tell me if I am being to forward.” 

“Of course.” 

“Why won't you inform Lady Olenna or your brother about what happened? A stomach bug may work now but what happens next time? Or the time after that?” Sansa stood from the couch and took her friend's hand into hers. “I don't want to scare you but I know Joffrey. Before that night...before he...it wasn't a sudden change. It started slowly and I've told you this before. It was a build up. In a day or two a gift will appear at your door. An apology of sorts. He will be kind to you for awhile but soon his violent tendencies will overcome and he will hurt you again. You can't hide these bruises forever.” 

“You did.” 

“And I was a fool.” 

“I guess... My grandmother would be furious and she can be scary but she is not my concern. She is far too intelligent to do anything rash. If Joffrey would suddenly end up dead, my grandmother would be certain that nothing connected to her. My concern is Loras.” Margaery pulled away and walked toward the four-poster bed located at the other side of the chamber. Her luxurious trunk was pushed up against the bed and she sat down upon it. “My brother means the world to me, much like Arya does to you. We have that bond that only siblings can have. If he saw me like this, my grandmother wouldn’t have time to plot Joffrey's demise because he would be dead by morning; my brother would be tried for treason and executed. I cannot let that happen.” 

Sansa didn't know much about Loras other than what Olyvar had to report on him. It appeared that the knight of flowers was rash and brazen. It was no secret the closeness he had with his sister. If Margaery had a weakness, it would be her brother. The Tyrells were ambitious but family came before everything. If Loras knew what Joffrey had done to his sister, Margaery was correct on the outcome of what would happen. It would be best if Loras remained ignorant as to what happened between Margaery and her betrothed. It was important that Margaery became queen. Neither Sansa nor Baelish wanted to sit on the throne themselves but needed to control it from behind it. Putting their ally on the throne would make it easier to do so. If Loras killed Joffrey and was tried for treason, no one would want the sister of a traitor sitting on the Iron Throne. 

“I understand.” Margaery smiled at her but winced again. Her hand went up to the bruised eye and hissed. Sansa walked over to the table and looked around the table seeing tea and nothing else. There was a small round container on the end table near the couch they had been sitting on and Sansa opened it. She smiled, noticing the ice and reached for a cloth. She reached in and grabbed a hand full of ice before placing it in the center of the cloth. Most of the ice in the container was melted but there was enough. She folded the edges over the ice and tied it with a ribbon she found lying on a chair near the window. Sansa walked over to Margaery and placed the ice on her eye. “Here, this should help the swelling. When did the Maester leave?” 

“About an hour ago.” Sansa nodded, which would explain why it was still swollen. While she didn't know the exactly time Joffrey's assault had taken place, it had to have been within the last few hours or previous night. Sansa had hoped that it didn't happen the night before because she didn't want to imagine how alone her friend would have been. At least when she had suffered at the hands of the King, she had Arya, who rarely left her side. It was clear that she needed someone to speak to but while they were friends, they were not on the scale that warranted such a deep bond; at least they hadn't been.

“Why me?” The words tumbled out as a whisper. Margaery was constantly surrounded by friends and companions. Sansa knew no matter how isolating King's Landing was and no matter how many people she could claim has friends, not everyone would come running during her time in need, Sansa included. If Sansa knew what her summons entitled, she might have considered not coming. Sansa wasn't as generous as Margaery. Yet, there had to be another person, outside of her family, that Margaery could turn to. Myrcella hated her brother as did Tommen; surly they would be willing to offer some comfort. While Sansa didn't know Tommen, it wouldn't be a far off guess that he might challenge his brother if he learned the harm he caused Margaery; for the younger brother was in love with her. If Tommen did challenge Joffrey, Tommen would lose and while it was important for Joffrey to remain King, it was equally important that Tommen stay alive. 

“Who else? The only other people who suffered at his hands are dead. You are the only one who would understand and understand why I need this to stay quiet.” Sansa didn't say anything but nodded. “Can you promise me something?” 

“You know I can't, but you can ask.” 

“I'm not a fool. The rest of the court may be willing to forget what he is capable of. They are willing to turn a blind eye in order to save their houses, but not you and certainly not your husband.” Margaery was beautiful but it was rare that someone as lovely as her would have the intelligence to match. “He caused you more harm than anyone. When you decided that it is time, will you tell me?” Sansa didn't reply but only squeezed her hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,
> 
> So I want to just point out that this chapter is kind of important. It leads up to something that I have planned for a bit later in the story. This chapter is a prelude of sorts. 
> 
> Next I want to talk about Margaery. I always viewed her as a political savvy person who was good at manipulating men and is very ambitious. However, she is also very good and cares deeply for those around her. I hope that I was able to portray that in this chapter.


	57. Chapter 57

Chapter Fifty Seven 

The view from the balcony was magnificent. Once one could get over the stench of the city, they had to admit that King's Landing was a beautiful city; at least from a distance. There were bad parts of the city of course, but Sansa never went there unless Baelish was with her and even then he didn't take her willingly, it was always part of some lesson or other. Overlooking the city from above almost made her forget the depravity of it all. King's Landing's beauty was only skin deep. The more carefully Sansa looked, the more decay and hideousness she found. 

While this place was now her home, Sansa knew that it was only temporary. She could feel deep down inside of her that this was just a transition. She was unclear what that feeling meant exactly but she knew that one day King's Landing would see the back of her. Whether that meant Baelish would keep his word and take to her Harrenhal one day or some other place, she didn't know. All she could say for certain that it was a feeling that kept her waking up everyday. The need for revenge and the bloodlust she felt were motivators to keep her alive, but it wasn't enough. Perhaps it was foolish or just a part of the old Sansa still lingering inside of her but she couldn't help but dream of a life with Baelish, far away from court and the game of thrones. 

Logically she knew that their life was not one easily walked away from. Even once Harrenhal was completed and the two of them could remove themselves from the Capitol, Baelish and to some extent she would still pull strings in the game. Baelish once told her many things can be achieved from a great distance. He has spent an entire year away from the court and it had been one of the most fruitful years he had experienced. 

While Sansa was forced to continue to call King's Landing home, her family was not. Shae’s murder and the lack of response from the court led Ned to finally decide it was time to pack the remaining members of the Stark family and leave. Winterfell wasn't completed and there was a significant amount of damage but the fighting had slowed to rare skirmishes. Ned had broken the news to his children the day before and once again begged Sansa to return North. She didn't want to argue with her father but gave him the same answer as before; she would remain with her husband in the Capitol. 

Sansa turned in her seat and looked at Arya who decided to spend her last day in the company of her sister. They strolled the gardens, held a private luncheon between themselves and dined in the Stark common chamber. It was the last meal the family would share together. Once Sansa and Baelish departed, she had begged him to stay the night in the brothel and allow her to have one last night with her sister. Since their marriage, Baelish and Sansa had never slept apart and always shared a bed. While they both knew it would be a restless night for both of them, Baelish was willing to allow her this gift. Baelish departed for the brothel, willingly spending his night around his whores, while Sansa and Arya giggled like old times back in Winterfell. 

They sat on the balcony of Sansa's chambers, drinking some Dornish wine and enjoying the stars that hung overhead. Sansa felt the tingle the wine caused spread down her senses and she knew that she would not be able to drink anymore. She placed her goblet on the small wooden table they had moved to sit between them and picked up a lemon cake. A guard had brought the cakes to them with a note written in Baelish's beautiful scrawl. One last treat that was to be shared between sisters. No matter how much he hid the truth from the court, Baelish had a soft heart when it came to his wife. 

“I'm going to miss you.” Sansa stated in a sleepy tone, reaching out to take Arya's hand in hers. The younger girl smiled but it didn't reach her eyes. Arya didn't want to leave and it wasn't due to a fondness she formed for King's Landing. She didn't want to leave Sansa. Every day since she had been born, Sansa had been a constant figure in her life. At one point, she was a constant pain, always having to be prim and proper, but as they grew older and closer, Arya realized wouldn't change her sister for the world. 

Yet, it wasn't just the loneliness she knew that Sansa's absence would cause but also the knowledge that her mission would be left incomplete. Being sent back to Winterfell early had distressed Arya and she begged her father to allow her to stay, but Ned wouldn't hear of it. He wanted to take them all home and repair what little bit of life they had left. However, Arya wasn't sure if she could ever really call Winterfell home again.

Did she even have a home? The childhood she remembered was in complete ruins and if she were honest with herself, her childhood died the night she stumbled upon Sansa in the Godswood. Arya had thought that nothing horrible could touch them so far north. Yet, her entire world changed when she saw her sister's broken body and realized that even the darkest of evil could sink into the purest of snow. Bran had been the beginning, a catalyst of events that would harden her soul and turn her into this monster she could feel herself becoming. She didn't even blink when she gave H'ghar Meryn Trant's name, she even felt glee in doing so.

Now that Winterfell was in complete shambles, her mother and youngest brother dead, Arya felt as though she had nothing left in Winterfell. She would go back to that cold and dingy place to watch Robb live loveless marriage with a woman who was bound to grow cold towards him if he continued to treat her as an inconvenience. Her father would slowly fall further and further into the bottle, hoping to find that warm embrace Catelyn used to give him. 

While Sansa enjoyed watching the Lannisters continue to tear themselves to shreds, Arya could see that the Starks were doing exactly the same thing; just at a slower speed. It made her heart ache at the mere thought of returning back to that castle without even Ser Rodrick to greet her. Who would sword play with her now? Robb had changed so much since they stepped into the Capitol that Arya wasn't even sure he would pick up a sword for her anymore. Even Jon was gone from the Wall and she had no idea where to send a raven. Arya almost found it funny how Sansa had become the strongest of them all. Months ago she had been broken and while she was far from healed, Arya knew that Sansa would survive them all. 

“I'll miss you too.” Arya squeezed her hand back and didn't let go. She knew that they both were getting tired but she could sleep in the carriage the next day. If she went to sleep now, the dawn would come sooner and King's Landing would be behind her. “Do you promise to write to me?” 

“I'll insist that Petyr keeps me stocked in parchment and ink in order for me to write to you everyday!” Sansa's tone was groggy and she was fighting to keep he eyes open. Arya giggled lightly at her sister. She knew that while Sansa might not write everyday, she would write often. She only had few friends in King's Landing outside of her husband and Arya knew that Sansa would grow lonely. Letters would be the only source of contact they would have and they would mean so much more because Arya was unsure when they would see each other again. “You could always stay you know. With us. Petyr wouldn't mind taking you on as a ward.”

“I want to stay. You know that but father would never allow it. He would drag you with us if he could.” Arya unlinked their hands and Sansa couldn't help but nod. As much as she wanted to beg their father to allow Arya to stay behind, it was a fruitless argument. When Ned believed in something, it was difficult to get him to agree, especially when it came to his children's safety. The only reason he wasn't pressing the issue of leaving Sansa behind was because he understood that she was no longer under his authority. 

“I know, but one can dream right?” Sansa smiled and it caused Arya to laugh. It was a joke they shared as children, before the distance set in between them. Sansa had always been the dreamer between the two, at least as children while Arya was far wilder. Sansa would dream of knights and princess while Arya would stand back, rolling her eyes. Arya would mock her and Sansa would reply in a huff that she should be able to dream. Now, whenever Sansa uttered those words, it would bring a small surge of joy to Arya. 

“Of course. I would never want you to stop dreaming.” Silence fell between the two of them again. Sansa watched her sister with a concerned expression. Something obviously was weighing on her mind and Sansa wanted to know what. Not because she was nosey but because she cared deeply for Arya. The elder girl shifted so she was sitting up straighter and looked her directly in the eye. 

“What is it? Whatever is bothering you goes beyond you leaving for the North.” The old Sansa had always been slightly self-absorbed but the sister Arya had grown close to was observant and in tune with those she cared for. “Talk to me.”

“If I asked you for a favor, would you do it?” 

“For you? I would do anything.” It was the truth. Arya could ask her to commit the most heinous of crimes and Sansa would do it without question. The only other person who received such a privilege was Baelish. Arya looked down at her hands and then back at Sansa. It was clear that whatever she wanted to ask caused her some distress. It was not something she would be willing to ask lightly and had put some thought into before making her decision. “All you have to do is ask.” 

“Okay.” Arya reached down and grabbed her goblet, taking a long sip of the wine before placing it back down on the table. “I have one name. I have one more life to take. It is clear that I won't be around to use it. Before I leave tomorrow, I will speak to H'ghar and I will give that name to you. You use it as you see fit and take whatever life you feel owed. The choice is yours.” 

Sansa felt a weight overtake her but it didn't cause her to feel distressed. Instead it was as though she received a gift and along with that gift came immense power. She could easily ask H'ghar to take Joffrey's life but she wouldn't, of course. That life she wanted to take with her own hands. However, that name could easily tie up some loose ends or erase a problem. Sansa felt honored that Arya was trusting her with such a responsibility. Arya had viewed the names as both a blessing and a curse. When she named Lancel, he was just a faceless Lannister to her but the reality of his death had caused her to lose sleep. Naming Meryn Trant was far easier and caused her relief instead of grief. She had become numb to the thought of taking a life; she actually started anticipating it. 

“Thank you. I won't waste the name. I promise.” While Sansa didn't know whom she would name, she knew that out of all three, this name had to be the most important. After this they would be no more free passes and any life they wanted to take, they would have to arrange it themselves. The two of them were heading down a dark path and neither wanted to look back; it was the reason neither of them wanted to return to Winterfell. 

Arya rose from her seat and Sansa slid to make room. Arya sat down beside her sister and cuddled up next to her. Sansa wrapped her arms around her, while Arya placed her head on Sansa's shoulder. They stayed together for several minutes, just watching the stars in the sky. Neither wanted to break the spell but Sansa's tiredness was ebbing away. Her mind was completely focused on the task Arya had given her. The possibilities raced through her mind considering what member of the court she would deem fit to die. 

“You're not going to name Joffrey, are you?” 

“No.”

“It would be far easier than killing him yourself.” Sansa smiled. It was true that simply naming Joffrey to H'ghar and waiting for his demise would be simple. There would be no evidence to tie her to the crime and she would have an alibi. She also knew that Arya was hoping she would choose Joffrey because no matter what path they were headed down, Arya wanted Sansa to keep her hands as clean as possible. She had suffered so much in her life already that the nightmares that came with taking a life was something she didn't want to plague her sister with. Naming a man to die and killing him directly were two completely different things. 

“Joffrey does not deserve easy.” The tone was dark and haunting, causing chills to flow down Arya's spine. “He deserves slow. He deserves painful and cold. I want him to feel the same fear that I felt. An easy death is something that is above him. I need him to suffer and I want to be the one who causes that suffering.” Her tone almost scared Arya. There was no mercy in it; Sansa wanted him to beg for it but would refuse to give him any sign of mercy. 

“Then a painful death he shall have.” Sansa kissed the top of her sister’s head and then pressed her cheek to it. She closed her eyes, simply allowing herself to enjoy the last few hours she had with Arya. After a moment, she opened them and scanned the city; her eyes focusing in the direction she knew the brothel stood. She felt guilty that Baelish would be sleeping alone but he had done so for so many years before he married her; he could survive one night without her in his bed. She was pulled from her thoughts when Arya shifted under her. “Do you know how you will do it? Or when you will end Joffrey?” 

“No one both counts. I don't know how or when I will kill him.” Sansa had thought of a hundred different ways she would take his life. There were some moments when her mind would drift and thoughts of watching him die would dance in front of her eyes. It was the only thing that kept her sane enough to be able to look at him and to be able to bow as a noble servant to him. Being forced on her knees in front of him always caused her stomach to turn. “I'm sure Petyr will help me think of something. He can be very creative.” 

“And scary.” Arya laughed and Sansa smacked her lightly. It was no secret that Baelish and Arya had a respect for each other. Arya saw Baelish as an opportunity for something more than just being married off to some high lord while Baelish saw a raw talent in Arya that he wanted to nurture. While Sansa didn't fully understand the friendly understanding between the two, she was grateful for it. “I'm just being honest. I'm not saying that it is a bad thing. In fact it is part of his charm but I wouldn't want to be on his bad side. I'm grateful that you are married to someone so dangerous.” 

“True. And he would do anything for me.” She could ask him to do anything and he would do it without question. Sansa would do anything for him but wondered if he would ever ask. Baelish was a man who was used to doing things himself or manipulating those around to do it for him; he would never manipulate Sansa because he wouldn't have to. He had her body and soul. He could break her easily if he desired to do so but Sansa knew that she could end him with the simple flick of her fingers. Yet, neither wanted to live without each other and therefore there was no need to turn on one another. “I find his dangerous side highly attractive. It is part of why I married him.” 

“Please say no more on that subject. I have enough scars for a lifetime and my sister's marriage bed isn't one I want to add to it. I've heard enough from the two of you during our travels south. We all have.” Arya jabbed and Sansa poked at her side, causing her to squirm. It was no secret that Arya's side was ticklish. 

“One day you will understand the pleasure of having a man in your bed. When that happens I expect glorious details!” Sansa gave her a naughty smirk and Arya just shook her head. She knew her sister was just toying with her. Neither one of them were so open that they would be willing to divulge into such personal things. They could easily discuss murdering the king but talking about the marriage bed seemed uncomfortable for Arya. Perhaps that would change one day.

“I don't know if I ever want to get married. It just does not feel as though it is a life that I would enjoy.” Arya mused on the thought. Her mother had told her that it was her duty as well as Sansa's to find a good husband and bear him children. The lesson always seemed so awful to her. She held no desire to belong to any man or to have some faceless stranger’s child. Ned would one day insists that she marry, which only added another reason as to why she did not want to return to the North. 

“You do not have to take a husband to enjoy a man in your bed. Do you honestly think that my wedding night was the first time I allowed Petyr in my bed?” Arya's eyes widened at the knowledge and Sansa laughed. “Oh, don't look so shocked. Father suspected of course but couldn't prove it. Either way Petyr and I are married now. The point I am trying to make is if you decided never to marry but take a hundred lovers, just make sure you become well versed in brewing moon tea.” 

“You would support me becoming a whore?” Arya laughed at the thought. She knew that Sansa would move heaven and hell before she allowed Arya to sell herself. She knew better than anyone what happened in brothels and would never allow her baby sister to work in one. If Sansa even got wind of someone mistreating her in such a manner, she would make sure that their death would be a painful one. “I'm kidding. I would never do such a thing.”

“I'm telling you, one day you will understand.” Her smile was teasing but she knew she was right. Their mother had warned them, when it was time for her to explain what happened between a man and a woman on their wedding night, that it would not always be painful. “As long as the man knows what he is doing and how to pleasure you, it will be one of the best experiences of your life. Trust me.” 

“So wonderful that you and Petyr repeat it often?” 

“I thought you didn't want to know about my marriage bed.” Arya rolled her eyes and reached over her sister. She grabbed the goblet and took a sip. Once she was done, Sansa held her close again. “I wish I could think of some reason as to why you had to stay with me. Perhaps I shall discuss it with Petyr in the morning and we will orchestrate something.” Sansa sighed in defeat. She kept trying to think of other things but her mind kept traveling back to the fact that she would have to say goodbye to her sister in a few hours time. 

“If you think of something, let me know.” Arya yawned and rubbed her eyes. Both knew that they would have to retire soon but neither wanted to sleep. “I will just have to bug father until he lets me visit. Although I don't think that will happen until you and Petyr relocate to Harrenhal. If you are no longer in King's Landing perhaps he would be more open to the idea.” 

“I have a feeling that we won't be separated long.” She could only hope that was the case. King's Landing would be a far lonelier place once her family was gone. She knew that the North was the best place for them but that didn't make it any easier. “One of us has to keep an eye on Robb to make sure he does not make any more foolish decisions.” 

“Thank you so much for charging me with an impossible task.” Arya muttered which caused Sansa to laugh. They both knew that it would be difficult to keep Robb from straying in his marriage. She pitied Roslin because she deserved so much more than Robb but not everyone got what they deserved in life. 

Sansa couldn't help but muse on the Stark children and who they had become. Both Rickon and Bran died long before their time. They were perhaps the best of them all. Jon abandoned his duties and his vows. No one has heard from him since the news broke that he fled the Wall. They often wondered if he was alive or if he was dead. Robb, the Heir to Winterfell was a fool who couldn't help but fall in love with the wrong woman, potentially ruining his own house. Arya had a bloodthirsty desire in her that went against everything they had been taught as children. And Sansa had fallen farther than all of them, allowing the darkness to consume her completely. The Stark children were the worst parts of the world personified; much to their parent's disappointment. 

As Arya and Sansa continued to stare out over King's Landing, neither knew the betrayals and horrors that were occurring inside that very castle. Come morning, everything would change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before any of you freak out...no, Petyr is not in danger. He is hanging out with his whores at the brothel and a very drunk Tyrion. He is fine. He is scheming because he is Petyr and that is what he lives for. I picture him with a nice glass of dornish wine, listening to Tyrion spill his guts out. He is making plans and plotting god knows what (well, I know but that would be telling.) He is fine. 
> 
> I promise.


	58. Chapter 58

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter comes with a warning. Just preparing you now.....

Chapter Fifty Eight

Silence descended over the Red Keep like a spell. Sansa thought it appropriate to match the loneliness creeping in and the bleak prospect of saying goodbye. They walked down the stone corridor quietly, Arya with her arm linked through her sister's. Baelish flanked Sansa, a comforting hand on the small of her back. Both Nymeria and Lady trailed behind them. It was a slow place, both women wanting to slow time and hold onto the few minutes they had left together. Baelish had ordered an excellent breakfast for them all, including several of Arya's favorites. It was a kind gesture but Sansa knew that it was more for her benefit than Arya's.

Baelish hinted that he was going to speak with Ned, hoping to convince him to let Arya stay behind in the Capitol. They knew it was a useless request but Baelish was more than willing to try. He did not like seeing his wife in such distress. If he could convince Ned to allow Arya to be fostered with them, Baelish would ensure that all of her needs would be met and that she would have anything she might desire. It would be a difficult sell but Baelish could be convincing when the matter called for it.

When they turned the corner and started heading toward the Stark chambers in order to allow Arya to gather her belongings, they noticed that not a single guard was in sight. The corridor was oddly silent and nothing could be heard from within, no servants gossiping as they dragged the Stark's trunks to the carriages, no last minute orders being given, no sound at all.

Baelish held out his arm and refused to allow either of them to get any closer. The door was ajar and no movement could be seen on the other side. Baelish slowly moved toward the door and snapped his fingers. The two direwolves circled around Sansa and Arya and moved toward the door. Nymeria pushed the door opened a bit wider, allowing the direwolves to enter. Still no sound could be heard. Baelish pulled the dagger from his belt. He pushed the door opened fully and commanded the girls to stay in the hallway. 

Time stretched on as they waited with baited breath, the silence suffocating them. The urge to go in was strong but it was as if part of them already knew what they would find… After a few moments Baelish came back out and told them to go back to their chambers. 

Sansa pulled Arya forward but the younger girl yanked free. Baelish attempted to restrain her but she lunged forward. Sansa called after her but Arya didn't turn, only pushing the door completely open and forcing her way inside. Sansa attempted to follow her but her husband wrapped his arms around her middle. She looked at him and his grey green eyes told her everything that she needed to know. Sansa needed to get inside that chamber so she fought weakly.

“You don't want to see.” Baelish whispered to her. The solemn expression that lingered in the creases of his face caused Sansa's fear to increase. Whatever was behind that door would change everything and deep down she already knew what was awaiting her. Sansa silently begged him and she could feel Baelish's arms slowly drop to his sides. Sansa rushed forward, knowing that Baelish was right behind her. He would care for her if she needed it.

Unlike Arya, Sansa entered the chamber slowly. The smell of copper was thick and potent, making her gag. She called out Arya's name but heard nothing. Looking around she saw pools of dried blood lingered on the wooden floor. There was a bloody handprint on the bannister that led up to Robb's personal chambers through a spiral stairway. Sansa placed one foot on the bottom step and her other foot on the next step up mechanically. Her hands reached for the silk of her yellow dress and made her way up the stairs. She didn't touch the wooden bannister covered in blood. From the smears, it looked as though someone had been dragged and a bloody palm had tried to hold onto the wood.

At the top of the stairs the door leading to Robb's chambers was completely open. Once Sansa stepped through, she nearly ran into a completely frozen Arya whose eyes were trained on the bed. Sansa followed her gaze. Robb laid there, alone, with his eyes wide open in the center of the oak four-poster bed blood-stained white sheets all around. There was a giant gash open on his throat. Their eldest brother and the heir to Winterfell was dead, murdered in his own bed. His wife was missing and no trace of her could be seen.

Arya stepped forward, her eyes never leaving Robb's corpse. She made her way around the bed and stood directly over him. Her hand reached out and she traced his forehead, bringing her fingers down over his eyes, closing his eyelids completely. If it weren’t for his throat being slit over, he could have been simply sleeping. Arya leaned down and placed a small kiss on his forehead. Sansa felt a hand on her shoulder and she turned slightly to see Baelish behind her. Sansa linked their fingers seeking comfort.

“He is cold.” He had been dead for a while then. He was slaughtered alone in his bed. Sansa's eyes were dry. She refused to allow herself to feel anything, summoning all her strength to block out any feelings. If she didn’t, Sansa wasn’t sure she wouldn’t be able to survive it. A thought occurred to her and she turned her head to look at Baelish with wide eyes.

“Father.” Sansa's eyes darted around the room but it was obvious that Ned was not in sight. Arya's head snapped up, terrified. “Where is he?” Baelish shook his head not knowing the answer. When he stepped inside the corridor, he looked around, saw the blood and knew that he needed to get Sansa far away from this corridor. “Father!” Sansa rushed passed him and back down the stairwell. She hurried through the common corridor and toward the small hallway that lead to Ned's personal sleeping corridors.

The chamber was empty with the bed completely made. It had not been slept in at all. Sansa looked down to the floor and saw several drops of blood, leading out of the chamber door. She leaned against the poster of the bed and held her stomach. The nausea became overwhelming. She knew exactly what she was going to find if she followed that trail. She heard a slight whimper and Sansa looked up. Lady was in the doorway with her ears bent low. Baelish was behind the direwolf. Lady padded her way towards her mistress and nudged her arm. The walls up inside her started to crack. She looked at Baelish and wordlessly he knew the question she was trying to ask. He shook his head and the stone shattered completely.

The cry that she let out was wild. It was the sound of ice shattering and the snow melting into pools of mud. It was the sound of Winterfell being brought to the ground as though it was nothing more than rubble. It was the sound of the North fading into nothing more than a memory. It was the sound of the last Stark taking one last breath. The Stark legacy was gone, dead and buried in crypts that no one would think visit. The Starks became a memory as cold and harsh as the North itself.

Sansa fell to her knees, the sting in her chest becoming unbearable. Warms arms engulfed her and she clung to them. He rocked her until she was able to breathe again. The tears never came but she could feel the ice swell up inside of her. Her veins ran cold and the chamber grew frosty. If she let out a breath, she was certain that she might be able to see the mist of her breath hang in the air.

“I need to see him.” It was nothing more than a whisper. She looked up at her husband and those eyes that she adored bore down into hers. He wanted to protect her from this; to wrap her up in a shell and shield her from the pain that this would cause. Baelish never wanted to hold her back and wanted her to grow as much as she possibly could but this was far too much for anyone to handle. All children, at some point had to bury their parents but to do so at such a young age was horrific.

“Arya is with him now. It won't be long.”

“He's alive?”

“Just barely.” With those words Sansa pushed away from him and ran past Lady; startling her. Sansa looked at the drops of blood on the ground and followed them. They grew fainter and fainter as she went and eventually stopped. At the end of them was the slowly dying body of Ned Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. He had made his way to a bathing chamber in hopes of retrieving some towels to press against the stab wound in his abdomen. He didn't make it to the rack that held them, collapsing in the center of the room.

His head was in Arya's lap and she stroked him lovingly. There were tears streaming down her face but they were silent. Sansa sat down next to them and took Ned's bloody hand into hers. He opened his eyes and looked at her. Sansa could tell that his vision was hazy and unfocused. At least the pain was fading away and soon he would be at peace. Ned smiled at her, blood in the lines between his teeth.

“Hi Papa.” It was the name she called him when she was a small child. He would bring her up onto his knee and tell her stories of faraway lands with dragons and magic. In those stories the bad guy always lost and the knights always conquered in the end; saving the princess who stood, waiting for them. As a small child, she never realized what lies those stories were.

“Cat.” His voice was hoarse and fading. Sansa smiled lightly realizing that her father didn't see her but instead saw the wife he loved more than anything, the wife who died before he was ever able to say goodbye. Sansa had always been told that she looked remarkably similar to her mother. “I'm so sorry, Cat. Please forgive me.” Ned coughed and a bit of blood ran out of the corner of his mouth.

“Shh. It's okay. You don't have to speak.” Part of her didn't want to see this. She didn't want to hold her father while he died. However, there were very few people she cared for anymore and her father was one of them. After this morning that number would grow even smaller. No matter how much she wanted to walk away and how much she wanted to leave him there on the cold wooden floor, she couldn't do it. He had already laid there for hours, slowly bleeding out and terrified that she couldn't allow his last few moments alive not to be in the arms of the woman he loved; even if it was a lie.

“I don't want to fight anymore. I know you are angry with me. I should have told you but I thought I was doing what was best. I-” Sansa reached up and placed her hand on his face, smearing the blood that was there. She rubbed his cheekbone and she felt him press his face into her hand. The gesture brought him comfort.

“I'm not angry with you. You did what you thought was right, just like you always do.” Sansa knew what he was speaking of. Her parents had argued before their departure to King's Landing because of the secret he kept from her regarding Jon. Sansa knew that the last few words they had shared were ones of anger and that must have eaten away at him. Part of her wondered if her mother would have treated Jon differently if she had known the truth.

“I should have told you. I needed to do what was best for Jon. I needed to protect him. Lyanna needed me to protect her son.” Sansa's eyes looked up and she saw that Arya stilled. Arya didn't know the truth regarding Jon's parentage but her quick mind figured it out. “I loved him like he was mine. I had to. He was the last part left of my sister. I wish you could have done the same. If I had told you the truth, then maybe you would have loved him too.”

“I'm so sorry.” The words tumbled out and Sansa realized that she didn't mean them for her mother but for herself. Sansa had been raised watching her mother treat Jon as though he was nothing more than dirt beneath her shoe. Sansa had grown thinking that being a bastard was some horrible thing and it wasn't until that night in the Godswood that she saw something different. She treated Jon no better than her mother and she wondered how that must have hurt her father. “I wish I could change everything. I wish that I had been better.”

“You were perfect. You were always perfect.” Ned whispered and there was a brief moment of clarity. He reached up to touch her face and Sansa placed her hands on his. She could feel the blood on her cheek. Ned must have held his wounds for as long as he was able and some of the blood transferred to his hand. By the time this was over, and Arya and Sansa became orphans, Sansa was going to be covered in blood. “I've missed you so much.”

Sansa couldn't even imagine what it had been like for Ned these last couple of weeks. When Catelyn and Rickon had been murdered, Ned practically fell apart. He tried to hold everything together but the loss of his wife widened the hole that had been left since Robert's Rebellion until it almost swallowed him. If Sansa learned that Baelish had been murdered in such a fashion, she knew that it would be her breaking point.

“I've missed you too, but we will be together soon.” It was a small consolation; at least her parents would be together again. In the back of her mind she made a note to send both Ned's and Robb's corpses back to Winterfell in order for them to be buried in the crypt alongside their family. She wondered if her parents could be buried together. The thought of Ned and Catelyn resting in eternal peace together made the pain from their deaths lessen just slightly.

“Do you think Bran will be there? And Rickon?” Those two names caused a piercing pain to sear through her heart. Arya gave a small sob and brought one of her hands to her mouth in order to silence her sobs. Arya's shoulders began to shake as she tried to control herself. The thought that her two youngest siblings were in the afterlife together never occurred to her. Sansa never had the time to process that Rickon was really gone; nor her mother. She was certain that if she one day returned to Winterfell, that loss would feel so much more intense. It was part of the reason why she needed to stay away.

“Of course. And Robb too.” The words were thick in her throat as she thought of her elder brother lying motionless in the bed up the stairs. It was difficult for her to grasp that she and Arya were the last of the Stark legacy. There were days when she still thought she would wake up and she would see fresh fallen snow on the ground outside her window. She would hear Rickon's laughter echo through the halls. She would hear her mother's scolding as Bran climbed every inch of the castle. Arya would be skipping her lessons to sword fight with Robb and Jon. Old Sansa expected to wake in the morning to see her mother head over heels in love with her father. Old Sansa's life was a fairytale until the lions caused it to crumble to the ground.

“No Robb is a fighter. He will make it. He will make it.” Ned's voice lingered at the end and it was obvious that he would be passing any moment. Neither Arya nor Sansa had the heart to break the news of to their father that his heir was dead. He wanted to think that his legacy would live on instead of being snatched away as it had been. “I love you. I've always loved you Cat.”

The tears began to flow freely then. Sansa couldn't hold them back anymore. She wasn't sobbing but the tears were real even if they were silent. She wanted to tell her father how she felt. She wanted to hold him and profess all those feelings she had buried deep down inside of her but she couldn't. Sansa couldn't bring herself to feel them even if the words he spoke were directed toward her mother and not her at all. She had always felt a disconnect with her father because he couldn't understand her. She was far more prim and proper than most women in the North were. Even her mother had a hardness to her that old Sansa did not and Ned could not relate to it as he could with Arya. From the tales she heard of her Aunt Lyanna, she had been a typical she-wolf of the North. Even though Sansa had hardened herself and lost that naive part of her, Ned was unable to connect with her. Even as her father lie there dying, Sansa couldn’t climb over that invisible wall between them, no matter how hard she tried.

Ned stilled and then slumped, the hand that had been on Sansa's cheek fell away. His eyes fluttered and shut for the last time. He didn't breath anymore and the tension left him completely. The Lord of Winterfell was dead and the Stark name would officially die out.

“Papa.” Sansa whispered. She placed the back of her hand to his nose to see if she could feel his breath. When she didn't she placed her ear on his chest hoping to hear his heart beat; nothing. “Papa!” She balled her hands into the fabric of his tunic and she began to shake him. “Papa!” She screamed, louder and louder hoping that maybe she could wake him. She continued to yell and shake until she felt a pair of strong hands on her shoulders. She collapsed into Baelish's arms and buried her face into his silk tunic.

Baelish held her tightly whispering his condolences into her ear, hoping that it would bring her some sort of comfort. If Baelish had been honest with himself and the world around him, he hated Ned Stark long before he met him. During the years he pinned after Catelyn, he would imagine how Ned would die and he had hoped that he would somehow be the cause of it. Perhaps in another life he would have been. However, when he saw Catelyn again at Lysa's funeral and realized that she was no longer the young girl he had built up in his head, his anger toward Ned faded even if it never extinguished completely. He thought the man a fool and Baelish fully enjoyed corrupting his daughter. When he ventured toward the North, he fully intended to claim Sansa's as his own as some sort of justice for what he had lost so long ago. However, he never anticipated how important Sansa would become to him. He had seen his wife break down far too many times in their short time span as a married couple and it tore at him. If it meant that Ned Stark had to live a long and happy life in order to see Sansa smile, Baelish would live with it even if he could never actually like the man. He would change everything if he only had the power. Baelish was a powerful man but that was outside of his grasp. 

The tears that fell from her eyes stained his shirt. No matter how much she tried to hold them back, they refused to bend to her will and continued to pour down her pale cheeks. Emotions as overwhelming as grief or love made her feel out of control. That loss of control caused her harm in the past and she vowed to never allow herself to feel such things again. She shut herself down as far as she was able but setting foot in the Capitol caused her emotions to break out of their cages. The grief that was flooding her body sent a wave to shock throughout her entire being. 

Even the grief she felt for her mother and Rickon could not compare to the emotions she felt at that exact moment. The loss of Catelyn and Rickon was almost imaginary, while it cut deep into her soul, it didn’t feel quite real. Sansa did not have to hold their bleeding bodies as they slowly slipped unconsciously into the afterlife. She didn’t have to see their lifeless body with their throat sliced open to the bone. She did not have to see their white sheets stained with their blood. In her mind, both Catelyn and Rickon would remain smiling and happy, even though she knew that their death was a violent one. However, when she would think back on Robb, all she would see was the deep cut that ended his life and when she thought on Ned, she would remember how he died confessing his sorrow for telling the biggest lie of his entire marriage. Their memories were completely ruined to her and she could only blame those who took them from her. 

As her body began to calm and Sansa forced herself to turn back toward her dead father, her mind tried to think of those who would have some sort of motive to harm her family; and think of those who would have nothing to gain that she could see. One of the many lessons she learned from her husband was that not every crime committed would be done by those who would gain from it. Sansa knew that whoever was behind the murder of her brother and her father would pay for the crimes dearly. 

Sansa looked toward her sister and she saw that dead expression in her eyes. The only time Sansa had seen such a look upon Arya’s face was when she broke the news of the Lannisters involvement in Bran’s death. Arya had inherited the Stark temper and it was not uncommon for her reactions to be violent. When she had learned that Jaime and Cersei might have been directly responsible for Bran falling from that tower, she had picked up one of Sansa’s glasses and threw it against the wall, causing it to shatter. 

Now, it appeared that the grief was manifesting itself into anger. Arya felt this hot rage inside of her that made her want to wrap her hands around the throat of whoever caused this and squeeze until their eyes grew wide and life left them. The thought of blood getting on her hands became less and less frightening with the disappearance of every life she cared for. Arya slowly lowered her father’s head toward the ground gently. She then pushed herself up and headed toward a small hallway off the main chamber. 

Sansa pulled away from her husband and watched her sister leave. Sansa didn’t want to leave Arya out of her sight, feeling the need to be near the last person of her blood. She followed her sister toward her personal chamber. When Sansa entered the chamber she noticed that it was completely untouched, as though no one had looked to see if Arya had occupied it the night before. Arya was searching through all of her belongings. She was throwing all of her clothes from the trunk and pulled out her sword. Needle gleamed in the early morning sun and Arya’s eyes looked at the sword with blood thirsty hunger.

“Find out who did this. Find out who did this, I want them dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Runs and hides*
> 
> I know. Hate me if you must. I know some of you were expecting something like this or were worried for Robb's character. I am hoping that I didn't break to many hearts!


	59. Chapter 59

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry for the wait.
> 
> But I want to thank my awesome beta Cris for sticking with me through this rocky rollercoaster of a story!

Chapter Fifty Nine 

Sansa smelt of rusted iron. It was the smell that if one stood close enough to the Iron Throne, the smell of rust and copper would reach their nostrils. The blood was covering her from her face to her ruined dress. The shape of a smudged handprint could be found on the side of her cheek. There were droplets of dried blood that fell down the side of her neck, staining her collar bone. Her arms and hands were drenched as the front of her yellow dress. The damp white rag was being twisted between her hands, causing her dress covered knee to become wet. The rag was to be used to clean off the blood but Sansa found her mind was far to distracted. 

Baelish and Sansa along with Arya had been removed from the Stark's personal chambers to the small council room when the knowledge of the double murder had reached the councils ears. The rest of the council minus Baelish and the King were speaking about the murders. Sansa didn't want to say investigation because she knew that while Joffrey was on the throne, no one would look into the murders. In fact he could go as far as to order that they remained untouched. It would be no secret how enthused the King would be at the knowledge that one of the most powerful houses had been eradicated. Especially when it was one that he personally hated.

About an hour later Roslin entered the small council room with bright red eyes and shaky hands, Edmure and Stevron trailing in shortly after her. As Sansa continued to wring the rag in her hand, her gaze focused on nothing at all, her mind lost in her own thoughts. Arya, who sat beside her sister, stared hard at Roslin from across the room as though she personally had something to do with Robb and Ned's murder. She knew that Roslin didn't have it inside of her to commit such an awful crime, yet, she couldn’t let go the fact that Roslin had been missing that morning. Had she left their chambers after the murders occurred? It made no sense to Arya. Why would they have left Roslin alive? Surely if she had been there the night before, she would have been dead too even though her chambers remained untouched. 

Yet, both Roslin and Arya were alive. Roslin had been unharmed but for the life of her, Arya couldn't see how, unless Roslin had never been in the chamber at all. But where had she gone and why? Arya continued to watch the teary eyed woman across the chamber and her fury grew. A small part of her knew that it was irrational for her to be angry with Roslin but she couldn't help channeling her anger at someone. 

Baelish appeared in Sansa's line of vision and held out his hand. He took the rag from her and began to clean the blood off her skin. He tried to be gentle with her but the blood was sticking onto her skin and in order to clean it off, Baelish had to press harder. She didn't mind the pressure, he had been rougher with her in bed before but he knew that she was in a fragile state. Baelish wasn't known for his kinder side and Sansa was the only one really privileged to such devotion. However, despite Baelish's attempts to scrub the blood, Sansa's mind was focused on something else. She glanced over at her sister and followed her angry gaze toward Roslin.

Roslin knew that she was being watched; her eyes kept meeting Arya and now Sansa. She felt uneasy but knew that both Stark girls would have some questions for her; many she knew that she would not be able to answer. Arya huffed and stood from her chair. Baelish, dropped the rag back into Sansa's lap and attempted to stop Arya but she pulled her arm out of his grasp. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her middle in order to hold her back completely. The last problem they needed was for Arya to be involved in a physically altercation. 

“Where were you?” The words escaped her lips with a hiss. Baelish ordered her to stay calm but his voice was only background noise. Sansa moved to stand in between Arya and Roslin. It wasn't just to keep Arya from lunging at Roslin, it was also because she too wanted to know where Roslin had been the night before. 

“With my brother.” The answer came quick and both of Arya's and Sansa's eyes flashed toward Stevron. Stevron's brows creased in confusion and it reminded her of how much of a fool Stevron really was. If he had any intelligence or loyalty to his sister then he would have quickly jumped to defend her. However, Sansa knew that he was not in that small council room in order to comfort Roslin. He was interested in the scandal that was erupting around him. He was not permitted to be in the room as the corpses were being removed but he had no real business being there and now he was trying to find out as much as he could. 

“Really?” Roslin nodded. “That’s odd because your brother seems surprised that you were with him last night. Not only that, but you always wring your hands when you lie. You are many things Roslin but a liar is not one of them.” Baelish released his sister-in-law as he looked between Roslin and Stevron. While he has his suspicions on who might have been involved with this murder and had every intention of finding out, Stevron and Roslin were not suspects of his. Baelish was a student of human nature and he knew that neither one would be able to commit such a crime. Roslin was far too pure while Stevron did not have the intelligence. “So try again. Where were you while your husband was being brutally murdered?”

“I didn't know. I promise you I didn't know!” Roslin's voice was shaking and it was obvious that she was terrified. While Sansa believed that she was not informed about the plot to murder Robb or her father, it still infuriated her that she didn’t want to say where she had been the night before.

“Answer her. Where were you?” Sansa stated in a calm voice, almost as though she was asking about the summer heat that pulsed outside the stone walls. “It's no secret that you and Robb didn't share a chamber or a bed. It would have been easy for you to leave. If you didn't know that Robb and our father were going to be murdered, why leave? What could pull you away from your bed the night before you were set to leave for the North?” 

“I..I was...” Roslin stuttered, unable to provide the answer Arya and Sansa were looking for. The longer she stalled the more irritated Arya and Sansa grew. It was obvious that Roslin was hiding something and it angered Sansa that she couldn’t figure out exactly it was. She had been so preoccupied with other matters in her life that she couldn't focus on what Roslin did on her free time when she wasn't with her. 

“She was with me.” All heads turned when Edmure, who had been sitting on a window seat looking out at the landscape, stood and came behind Roslin. He placed a firm hand on her shoulder and she brought hers up to grip his fingers tightly. She looked down and Sansa could see a tint of red appear on her porcelain skin. Sansa sucked in a breath and was unable to pull her eyes from Roslin. During the entirety of her marriage to Robb, Roslin had not once hinted that she might have been interested in another man. When Sansa had first met Roslin all those weeks ago at the Twins, she had said she loved another but that man never noticed her. She wondered when her uncle decided to fall in love with his nephew’s wife; because that was obviously what it was, love. Edmure was a quiet man, not someone who allowed his emotions to rule his head. However when he did feel something, it went far deeper than anyone else Sansa had ever know. Part of her wished she could say that for Baelish but she knew that she and her husband were far too similar; they both refused to feel their emotions. 

A loud thump resounded from the other side of the room jerking everyone from their trance. Stevron had forcefully pushed himself up, kicking the wooden chair he had been sitting on backwards and the chair hit the stone wall behind it. Stevron looked angry at the mere thought that Edmure had disrespected, not his sister, but him. It was a common tale for a high lord to prey upon a woman of a lower house and Stevron being the unintelligent fool that he was, would jump to such conclusions even if the sister in question no longer belonged to his house. 

“You bedded my sister!” Stevron roared, a vein straining in his forehead. Sansa glanced to her left when she heard a huff. Baelish appeared annoyed as though such a trivial matter as the Frey's honor was not something he was in the mood to deal with at a time such as this and Sansa couldn't help but agree with him. Arya, whose back was straight as an arrow and body was still as stone, never took her eyes from Roslin despite the overly angry man who was inches away from her uncle. 

“Yes. I did.” It was the certainty in his voice that caused Stevron to lunge forward. He had every intent of causing Edmure harm. However, Roslin stepped between the two men and quickly placed her flatted palms on her brother's chest. She pushed him backwards with such a force that it surprised Sansa. She never would have expected someone with Roslin's small stature to be so strong. Stevron stumbled backwards and nearly fell to the ground.

“Now is not the time to fake wounded pride, Stevron.” Roslin huffed, clearly out of breath. Edmure stayed behind her but Sansa could tell that it was not out of cowardice but out of respect instead. He wanted Roslin to be able to fight her own battles instead of expecting him to fight them for her. Her eyes turned to Baelish knowing that he would do the same. “In case you have forgotten I am no longer under your control and my actions no longer affect you.” 

“But they affect the Starks.” Arya's silent voice drifted through, putting an icy spell on the heat between Stevron and Roslin. The tone shift in Arya's voice caused a chill to trickle through Sansa's veins. The shift was clear, Arya had gone from all but shouting to a calm deathly tone. This was beyond anger and fell into a pool of black abyss. While Arya was still riding the waves of anger and fury, Sansa fell into the comfortable cocoon of nothing. Once her tears had dried along with the blood, Sansa turned emotions off; refusing to feel the pain. “How long have you been having this affair?” 

“Just once. Last night was the first time and it was meant to be the last.” The answer came quickly and easily causing Sansa to believe that it was the truth. Arya stepped forward slowly, her glare keeping her company as she moved; it never wavered from Roslin. Soon she was inches from the fresh widow’s face that their noses could almost touch each other. Baelish followed close behind in order to pull her away if there was a need.

“You expect me to believe that you spent only one night in your lover’s bed? That you only disgraced my brother once? That the only night you spent in Lord Tully's bed was the night your husband's throat was slit open?” 

“Yes.” The sound of Arya's hand meeting the side of Roslin's face was like a crack of lightening. It happened so quickly that the flash of brown hair whipping across Arya's face started Sansa. Roslin's hand quickly went to her cheek. Her eyes were wide with shock and surprise at Arya's actions. Edmure reacted quickly, inserting himself between the two of them. Before Baelish could reach out to pull Arya away, Edmure picked up his niece and all but tossed her into Baelish's arms. 

“Liar!” Arya screamed as loud as her lungs would allow her to do so. She thrashed in Baelish's arms, hoping to free herself in order to continue her assault on Roslin. After a few moments Arya began to tire and tears began to stream down her face in an abundance of sobs. Once Baelish released his grip on her, Arya sank to the ground and Sansa quickly followed her, taking her sister into her arms. Arya buried her face in Sansa's neck and the red head could feel the tears soak the crook of her neck, tears mixing with dried blood. “Liar. She is such a liar.” Sansa kissed the top of Arya's head, hoping to bring some kind of comfort to her but knew that she was failing. 

“I think it would be best if you left.” Hearing the sound of Baelish's voice made Sansa look up. She could see the concentrated look upon his face and she knew that he was filing this information away for another time. Sansa wanted to be annoyed with him for using her family's tragedy to push forward his own agenda but she found she didn't have the strength inside of her. She was completely burnt from the day’s events and it was still considered early. 

Stevron was the first to leave, quickly brushing past his sister, leaving the small council chamber and slamming the wooden door behind him. Sansa would not be surprised to hear that he departed for the Twins in the coming morning. Stevron was just as proud as he was a fool and would not want to face the scandal of his sister bedding a man who was not her husband. Sansa also knew that whatever deal they may have had with the Twins in order to regain financial security for the North was gone. Roslin was Robb's widow but had no claim on the North. She had only lain with Robb on her wedding night and she’d had her courses since then. If she were indeed carrying a child, the child's legitimacy would be in question and could have no claim on the North. Sansa could see the conundrum weighing on Baelish's mind. 

Edmure looked at Baelish as though he was hoping to come to some kind of agreement but knew that nothing would be accomplished during such an emotional moment. Baelish thrived on chaos and Sansa knew that he would find some way to turn this horror into their favor. Either way, it would not do to have the Lord of the Riverlands as an enemy, especially if Sansa expected to raise her children at Harrenhal. After a moment Edmure opened the wooden door again and held it open for Roslin but she stood rooted in the same spot, looking at Sansa. There was grief in her eyes and Sansa knew that she had nothing to do with Robb's and her father's murders. She may not have been as innocent as Sansa had thought but at least her hands were clean of any blood. That was more than Sansa could say for herself. 

“Please understand, I never meant to cause anyone any harm. Especially Robb. I didn't love him and he didn't love me but I did respect and admire him. Despite all of his faults he was a good man.” Roslin moved forward, knelt down onto the wooden floor and tentatively placed her hand on Arya's, whose tears had slowed. Arya stiffened but she didn't move. Roslin looked at Sansa over Arya's slumped form. “I just wanted one night. I wanted one night to know what it felt like to be loved. To be adored. You of all people Sansa should understand that feeling.” 

As much as she wanted to be angry with Roslin, she couldn't help but agree with her words. Ice blue eyes slid upward and she saw Baelish's eyes pouring into her. Behind that calculating mind, she could see that deep connection they shared. After Joffrey, being in Baelish's arms did make her feel adored and wanted. The feel of his lips on her skin and the pulsing feeling of him inside of her had the power to wash away all the pain the past had caused her, even if it was only for a short time. 

“Yes. I can.” It was the only form of forgiveness Sansa had left inside of her. She had been consumed by fury and a thirst for revenge that forgiveness was not an emotion she had felt in such a long time. Yet, this last catastrophe was like a breaking point for her. She had nothing left to feel but that numbing sensation that froze inside of her just like water froze in the dead of winter. Sansa wished that she could make it winter again if it meant erasing the blood that currently stained her. She would live the rest of her days in the mist of a complete snowstorm if it meant rebuilding the Stark legacy. While the ice in her was strong, Sansa knew that it would melt and one day that burning fire would return. She couldn't allow this moment of weakness to last for much longer.

“Thank you.” Roslin stood and walked toward the door. She was about to go out into the corridor but paused. She looked back one last time and gave them a bittersweet smile. “He knew, Robb I mean. He knew how I felt about Edmure just as I knew how he felt about Jeyne.” She paused again and closed her eyes. “I made sure that no child would have been born between Edmure and I. Robb and I were going to make it work in North. We were going to build a life there and I hope that in time we would have been happy.” With that Roslin turned and left the room. Edmure followed quickly behind her, remaining completely silent during her confession. It was clear that he either knew of her feelings already or was just too stoic to comment. 

Once she heard the click of the door closing, Arya pushed herself away from Sansa. She sat on the floor as though standing would cause too much effort. It was the moment Arya realized that there was nothing left for her. Beyond the red headed woman who sat in front of her and the man her sister married, Arya had no one else in the world. Arya felt so alone it terrified her. She always had a huge family to stand behind her and now that family had shrunk and was almost completely eradicated. While Sansa was alive and well she no longer held the Stark name. Arya was the last Stark and she refused to ever trade that name for another's; it had suddenly become far more precious than before. 

Baelish pulled a chair close to them and sat down. Sansa held out her hand and Baelish pulled her up. She sat down on his lap and rested her body completely against him. Feeling the warmth against her made her realize how much her body ached and her stomach churned. As she curled up in his arms, she looked down at her sister and wanted to reach out to her. Sansa held out her hand and Arya linked their fingers together. Sansa had Baelish and would until the end of her days, however she knew that Arya was far more alone than she was. 

They wouldn't leave her out to survive on her own. They would do what they had to do but there was the question of who Arya would legally belong to now that her father was dead. She would have to become someone’s ward and Sansa would send anyone to hell if they tried to take her sister away from her; especially now. Looking at her husband, she knew that Baelish would want to keep Arya close, even if it was out of a different desire than hers. Baelish would take the young girl on as a ward not only because it would bring his wife joy but because he could also use the girl. Sansa knew this but if it got her, her heart’s desire, she would be more than willing to overlook her husband's motivations. 

The thought of where she would go hadn't even occurred to Arya. All she could focus was how her family was destroyed. She would close her eyes and she could see all of their faces so clearly. As she thought on the Starks she couldn't help but lean closer to her sister's legs while tightening her fingers in Sansa's hand. 

“I don't understand.” Arya whispered.

“Talk to me.” Baelish commanded in a gentle tone. His mind was working quickly because he knew that if he waited any opportunity that could possibly benefit himself and Sansa would pass them by. He would let his wife mourn her loss but he wouldn't stop playing the game for them. Taking a break could possibly cost them their lives and that wasn't something he was willing to risk. He was the head of their home and if he had to carry her for a time being, he would be proud to do so. “What are you thinking?”

“I just don't understand how it got this way. It wasn't long ago that we were happy and now they are all gone. I just don't understand.” Baelish kissed Sansa's shoulder and nudged her. Sansa moved off his lap and dropped her sister's hand. Baelish stood and walked over to a basin that had been provided by a servant to help Sansa clean the blood off. He grabbed a fresh rag instead of using the blood-stained one Sansa had dropped. He soaked the rag in the basin and walked over to his wife.

“I could tell you that death is not meant to make sense. I could tell you that this would make you stronger and a better person. I could tell you that those who are responsible will he held accountable, that justice for your family will be served.” Baelish began to clean the blood off of her again, only this time pressing hard than before. “But I won't. I won't lie to you by instilling you with false hope. Perhaps your father served justice in the North but not here. No one is noble in King's Landing. Not in the Capitol.”

“No.” Arya shook her head. “Not even in the North.” Bran. His death was just the beginning of their story. No justice was ever served for him that was out of reach even for Ned. Baelish gave her an approving smile, pleased at how quick Arya learned. 

“There is no justice in the cruel world we live in.” Sansa's neck and collarbones were clean and Baelish moved up to her cheek and began to remove the handprint that had been left on her cheek. “If you want vengeance for them, you are going to have to do it yourself.” Once Sansa was completely clean, he threw the rag down and wrapped his arms around her middle, causing her to lean into him. She knew that he wasn't only speaking to Arya but she was the one who needed the lesson. “You kill them all.”

Petyr Baelish was not her father; he was not honorable or kind. He was not Ned Stark and never would be. He wouldn't hold Arya as he did Sansa and whisper comforting words to her but he would do something else; something Ned could never fathom doing for his youngest daughter. Baelish would give her the tools to become the woman she was always meant to be. He would lead her down the same path that Sansa willing followed him down. He had both Stark girls in his pocket and was more than willing to use them because he cared for them. Baelish was not her father but he would become something far better for her. He would offer her the vengeance she desired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So......I wonder if any of you picked up on the Roslin/Edmure twist? I planted rather small hints along the way but only one or two comments came in. I'm just curious. 
> 
> While I am VERY excited about how this chapter turned out, it was rather difficult to write. The original draft of it had Sansa being the aggressor and Arya playing a more passive role; but it just didn't feel right to me. Once I realized it was because it would be highly out of character for them, I switch roles. Arya is driven far more by emotion than her sister and she would be the one to fly off the handle at Roslin. Sansa, at least in Boden, has become numb and another tragedy such as this would cause her to practically shut down.
> 
> what do you think??


	60. Chapter 60

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Sorry for the small delay.

Chapter Sixty 

Neither Sansa nor Arya had ever been summoned by anyone other than their father. When the elegant scroll had been delivered to the Baelish's personal chambers, a knot formed in Sansa's stomach. She had been ill for about a week, since they found the last remaining members of their family murdered. She spent most of her time leaning over a chamber pot relieving the contents of her stomach. Arya and Ros had remained by her side and didn't allow any visitors to enter, until the summons came. 

The sisters made their way with linked arms toward the throne room. They forced themselves to hold their heads high as they passed the sympathetic looks of those who resided in the Red Keep. There were whispers that the Starks carried some kind of curse. Some wondered when those two would end up dead but Sansa refused to allow that to happen. They all said that the Stark name would die out once Arya married but Arya declared that she would never take another's name. She was born a Stark and would go to her grave a Stark. 

The throne room was all but empty. The tall stone pillars gleaming and the lack of people made the throne room feel huge. No one was speaking and Sansa could hear her boots hit the Targaryen designed floor. She could feel Arya tense as she took in the faces that surrounded the throne. Sansa couldn't help but be relieved when she realized that Joffrey was not the one sitting on the throne but instead his grandfather. She had not seen Joffrey since Shae's death. She knew he was around because of murmurs she had heard but she had no direct contact with him. She wondered if Tywin had anything to do with Joffrey's lack of appearance in court or if it had something to do with his attack on Margaery. Either way, it was clear that Tywin was attempting to put his grandson back on a tight leash. 

Two people sat beside the throne that was occupied by Tywin. Cersei was on his right as she always was. Joffrey’s bruises had faded from her face, making her striking once again. Her golden locks piled on top of her hair and her back was poised causing her to appear every part of the royal she claimed to be. On Tywin's other side Sybell sat in the seat usually reserved for Margaery. It was clear that she was enjoying have a small seat of power and she seemed so proud to be sitting beside Tywin as though she were his wife. 

Most of the small counsel was in attendance but lingered on the side. Varys's was eyeing the scene but carefully stood a ways back and remained out of the limelight. Sansa knew that there was a small council meeting but it was clear that this one did not go as planned. Her eyes traveled to her husband who was standing on the side with his arms crossed. Baelish's lips were sticking out slightly, meaning that his tongue rested on the outside of his teeth. Sansa knew that look and it was one where something wasn't going as planned for Baelish. While he was always had a backup, he never enjoyed having to use them. His grey green eyes were narrowed across the way and she followed them.

Edmure was pacing lightly and Roslin stood still near a row of benches. She seemed uneasy in a beautiful black gown full of lace and small jewels. It was no secret that Stevron had left in a hurry, scorning his sister as he went. Her affair with Edmure was well known, adding a bit of intrigue to the mysterious deaths of Ned and Robb. Many thought that her affair proved her guilt but Sansa knew better than that. There were far too many witnesses in Edmure's employ to verify that they both were locked away in Edmure's chambers for hours during the murders. 

While Sansa couldn't bring herself to be fully angry with Roslin, she wasn't happy with her either. Arya on the other hand was furious and wanted nothing to do with her widowed sister-in-law. While she knew that Robb had been unfaithful to Roslin since the very early days of their marriage, Arya couldn't accept the fact that Roslin had done the same. She knew it was hypocritical but in her grief addled mind, it was difficult to tell the betrayal and the murder apart. 

Sansa went over to her husband’s side, Arya slowly following behind her. Her eyes trailed toward the rest of the faces in confusion because it was unclear as to what they had been summoned for. The nausea and fatigue had only worsened in the last day and the request for them to arrive in the throne room made it nearly unbearable. 

“What is this about?” Sansa asked but Baelish didn't answer. His glare remained fixated upon Edmure as though he had wronged him in some way. Upon closer inspection she could tell that Edmure's face was red and irritated. His eyes would also flicker toward Baelish but not as frequently and open as her husband's glare.

“There is a question, Little Dove…” Cersei's voice sounded from beside the throne. Sansa's eyes snapped toward the Queen, realizing that she hadn't spoken to Cersei since her arrest. There was recognition in Cersei's eyes, thinking back on that same moment. Sansa felt that it was a pity that Cersei was released but Tywin's power reached so far and wide that not even the King was able to hold it back; even if he thought he could. “…of your sister's placement now that your father has passed.”

“My placement?” Arya stepped forward, her hands balling the black fabric in her hands. Her chocolate hair was braided and piled on top of her head. She looked every part of a young lady from a noble house who was in mourning. She had grown from an unruly girl to a beautiful woman who was far more skilled with a sword than most seasoned men. Many overlooked her for not being a beauty such as Sansa but that was something Arya had learned to use in her favor. 

“Yes. Your placement.” All eyes turned toward Tywin and it was obvious that he found this discussion a waste of his precious time. The meeting had let out, the King had fled quickly and he had hoped to spend time in his chamber before the evening meal. However, those plans were disturbed when Edmure had requested a moment of the King's time. Being denied by the King, the matter was passed off to the Hand. “It appears that your uncle plans to leave for the Riverlands in less than a fortnight. Once the appropriate mourning period has passed, he plans to marry your brother's widow. He requests that you accompany him to the Riverlands as his ward until you are of age to marry.” 

Sansa's eyes widened and her head snapped toward her husband. It was obvious that he didn't like the idea of Arya being shipped off to the Riverlands any more than she did. While she didn't know the extent of his design on her sister, Sansa knew that Baelish had intended to keep her in his back pocket. Sansa just wanted to keep her sister close to her for as long as she possibly could. 

“However.” Tywin continued with his usual drawl. “Your brother-in-law wants to keep you here in King's Landing. He claims that his wife couldn’t be parted from you after at this moment in time.” He gave a huff again, annoyed. “I honestly do not care if you stay or if you go. Seeing that neither Lord Baelish nor Lord Tully cannot come to an agreement, I will allow you to make this decision. Now girl, would you rather stay here or leave with your uncle?” 

She didn't speak for a moment but Arya's mind was working quickly. She lifted the fabric of her black dress slightly in order to make it easier for her to walk. She stepped toward Edmure and reached out for his hand. She smiled at him and then at Roslin. Roslin stepped up to stand behind his slightly. She knew that Arya was still angry with her and knew she needed to keep her distance, not because she thought that Arya would lunge at her as she did the day before but because she respected Arya enough to know that her presence caused her pain. 

“Thank you Uncle Edmure.” She hugged him and it was clear what her decision was going to be. The rest of the small council could sense it. “It makes me happy to know that I have family that would be there for me when I need it. Your offer touches me but I can't accept it.” Edmure seemed completely unsurprised but her choice but it was clear he was disappointed. 

“This place is dangerous. I only want to keep you safe. Please think about this.” Edmure sounded desperate. Sansa and Arya were the last members of his sister's family and he wanted to protect them in order to honor his sister's memory. He knew that Sansa was under the control of her husband and that she would not be permitted to leave with him. Of course Edmure didn't realize that Baelish would send his wife anywhere she wanted to go, even if it meant being away from him. “Your wolf will have a place to run. You will make friends. I have Master At Arms who can help you with your sword fighting. You can have a home again.” 

“You have no idea how wonderful that sounds. If things were different, I could take your offer in a heartbeat but I can't.” Everything that Edmure spoke of was everything that Arya wanted. It was tempting to take it by the hand and run with it. However, she had her course set and knew that she had to much unfinished business in the Capitol. She also wanted to punish those who had partaken in the destruction of her family. Revenge was the only thing she longed for now, more than a home. “But I can't leave my sister. I just can't, so please don't ask me to.” After a second, Edmure nodded his head and the deal was done. Arya was to remain in the Capitol as a ward of House Baelish. 

“Well the girl has made her decision and I want to hear no more of this.” Tywin declared and stood from the Iron Throne. He held out his hand and Sybell placed hers into his. She linked their harms together as Cersei moved next to her father. He did not offer his arm but he spoke something softly to her. She gave him a gentle smile before leading his mistress out of the throne room. Cersei followed diligently behind him, looking at no one. Sybell met Sansa's eyes as the passed and she seemed far too smug for Sansa liking. She delighted in the fact that Robb was no longer alive because it meant that it kept him away from her daughter, permanently. Once they were completely out of the throne room, the remainder of the small council started to break up and head into their own separate directions. 

Feeling a sense of relief, Sansa leaned into her husband who wrapped his arms around her. She could feel the tension leave him as he kissed the top of her head. They stood back slightly as Edmure placed his hand on Arya's shoulder. He gave a gentle squeeze before turning his eyes on Baelish. While they were friendlier than before but there still was a tense distrust in them when he gazed upon his niece's husband. 

“Protect her.” 

“I promise.” Baelish's promises were never ones to trust but Sansa knew that Arya had a place in Baelish's game and that he needed her. Sansa also knew that he wanted to please her as much as possible and keeping Arya protected but not smothered her was a key factor in her happiness. With one last look, Edmure began to leave the throne room. He stopped once he realized that Roslin was not following him. 

Roslin walked up to Arya who tensed when she got closer. Despite the fact that it was obvious that Arya felt uncomfortable with Roslin's presence, the latter still pulled the younger girl into a tight embrace. After a moment, Arya relaxed in Roslin's arms, knowing that she couldn't remain angry at her forever. There were far more important people she needed to focus her fury upon. While she may never fully be able to forgive Roslin for her affair, because it was so heavily linked to the deaths of both Robb and Ned, she felt that she didn't need to exact any type of vengeance again her. 

She knew that she should be angry with her uncle as well but she couldn't bring herself to do so. Perhaps she would feel differently if Roslin had been there when they found the bodies but she wasn't. It was her absence that infuriated her. It wasn't that she wanted Roslin dead but it was what Roslin had been doing during the time that both Robb and Ned had been murdered. Arya knew that Roslin would most likely be dead if she had stayed in the chambers that night, as would she but she couldn't help how she felt. 

“When I marry your uncle, I will become mistress of Riverrun and as long as I am mistress there, you will always have a home. Please, if you ever need somewhere to turn or somewhere to go, you will be welcomed with open arms.” Roslin pulled back and gave Arya a smile, knowing that it would not be returned. Roslin's eyes shifted toward Sansa. “Both of you.” With that Roslin walked toward Edmure who placed a hand on the small of her back. The two of them left the throne room together and Sansa knew that once the left the Capitol, it would be years before she saw them again. 

Baelish kissed Sansa's cheek before letting her go. He smiled down at Arya and placed a hand on her shoulder. It was a friendly gesture but not comforting. Baelish wasn't her father and she knew that he wasn't going to be as protective as Edmure would have been. Despite that, Arya knew that Baelish would give her the freedom she needed and the tools to exact her revenge. She knew that he wasn't the right choice or even the best choice; but he was the choice that her sister made and the choice that Arya wanted. 

“ I will have your belongs set up in a spare chamber that you've been using for the last few days. If you want or need anything, just ask and I will make sure that is provided. Lady normally sleeps in our chamber and Nymeria is welcome to do so in yours. Is there anything you want sent from Winterfell?” 

“No.” 

“Alright, but if you think of something, let Sansa or I know and we will have it shipped.” Arya gave him a smile and suddenly couldn't help herself. She threw her arms around his shoulders and hugged him tightly. Sansa giggled at the action because she knew that beyond her touch, Baelish was not used to such physical affection. He patted Arya's back lightly but didn't return the hug. Once Arya pulled away, Baelish straightened his coat and mockingbird pin before giving her an awkward smile. “You may go anywhere you please and do what you please. Of that, I do not care however there is one thing I will require. Nymeria must accompany you when you leave, I ask this of Sansa as well and she listens, for the most part.” Baelish looked over at Sansa and gave her an affectionate smile. “Any questions?” 

“What happens if I don't bring Nymeria with me?” Arya asked. Sansa would sometimes venture without Lady and she knew that Baelish rarely got angry with her. It might be different for Arya seeing as she was not his wife but there were some things she needed to do and a large direwolf would cause too much attention. Baelish smirked at her knowing exactly where her mind was and he was willing to bend that rule if she was trying to achieve something only Baelish could be proud of. 

“We shall cross that bridge if we have to.” Arya giggled when Baelish threw her a mischievous look. He turned and reached his hand out for Sansa, pulling her close. She snuggled into his side, breathing in the scent of mint, allowing it to sooth her stomach. “Now that we have that settled, I have a gift for you.” His eyes were trained on Arya and both of them looked confused, something he was relishing in. He pulled Sansa toward the giant oak doors and led her through them, Arya following close behind. 

Baelish led Sansa and his new ward a short distance away from the throne room. There was a balcony surrounded by pillars and the ocean could be heard from it. The salty breeze washed over them as Baelish walked down the steps. A small man was standing there next to two swords. When he turned Sansa could see his curly hair made his appear slightly taller than he was. He was foreign and mysterious. Baelish held out his hand and the stranger took it, shaking it slightly as though they were concluding some kind of business operation. 

“Arya, this is Syrio Forel. He is a dancing master for Braavos. He will be helping you with your fencing skills.” Sansa looked over to her sister and could see her bouncing on her heels. For the first time in a week, Arya looked excited about something. She walked forward and looked as though she was about to throw her arms around him again. He backed up with held up his hand, indicating to her that the action was unnecessary. Sansa giggled causing his eyes to flicker toward her. “A thank you is just fine.” 

“Thank you.” With that Arya turned toward her new dancing master who picked up one of the swords that was perched against the stone wall. Sansa recognized it as Needle. Baelish must have taken it with either of them realizing it that morning. He had been planning this for days, searching King's Landing for a dancing master that would be able to hone Arya's skills. Syrio tossed Needle toward Arya, who caught it with ease. 

“The boy has skills.” 

“I'm a girl.” 

“Boy, girl. You are a sword.” 

Thus it began, the lessons between Syrio and Arya. As she watched them, Sansa couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of pride in her sister. It was obvious that she was talented but watching her now, sword fight with a man she didn't know just reinforced it. She had known Robb's, Jon's and Ser Rodrick's skill set so well that she was able to predict their moves. It became routine and that was dangerous. Now, she fought against an unknown man who would be able to teach her more. 

Baelish linked his hand with her’s and pulled her away from the balcony; leaving Arya to her lesson. They strolled down the stone corridor not speaking but just leaning into each other as the walked. Once they were a distance away, Sansa stopped and fisted her hands into his coat. She pushed him up against the stone wall and latched their lips together. She molded her body to his and he wrapped his arms around her. They stayed like that for a time until the need for air caused them to break apart. 

Sansa rested her head against his chest and listened to his beating heart. She felt his thumb draw small circles on the small of her back. The touch was light and soft, something Sansa enjoyed immensely. It wasn't that she had been without it but it was more of the fact that she had just not been up for the feel of him. When she closed her eyes she would see her father's body lying in a pool of his own blood and Robb with his throat slit open. Arya had also been with them and Sansa hadn't been able to let her out of her sight for the most part; at least until the shock faded and the grief took over. Once a few days had past and the realization really sunk in, Sansa had started getting sick. 

The sickness would happen throughout the day and Baelish would always hold her hair back when she felt ill. He never mentioned it or offered to bring the maester and they both knew why. Yet, neither was willing to speak on it. She was certain of course and her intuition guessed that so was he but speaking on it made it real. Seeing him being so kind, or at least his version of kind, towards Arya made her desire him. 

“That was kind of you.” She tilted her head so she could look at him in the eyes. When she saw his mischievous smile and couldn't help but kiss it gently. She pulled away and grabbed his hand. They started walking again but Baelish remained silent. He wouldn't acknowledge that his gesture had been kind because he hated people seeing him in such a manner. He wasn't kind and he wasn't a good man. He never wanted to be one. “I know why you did it of course. It wasn't out of the goodness of your heart but she loved it nonetheless. I thank you for that.” 

“She has skills and it would be a shame not to use them.” Sansa just smiled at him as they walked. “She has the potential of becoming something great. If she went to the Riverlands, Edmure would have found her a husband and she would have hated every second of it.” Baelish pulled Sansa closer to him and brushed his thumb over her breast. “Not everyone is meant for matrimony as we are.” Sansa whimpered at the touch, her breast being sensitive. “One day her skills will be unmatched and it would be best to have her in our corner.” 

“Arya will always be in my corner.” They were getting close to their chambers and she paused in the middle of the corridor. She wrapped her arms around his shoulder and he placed his hands on her hips. They simply looked at each other. “And for as long as you have me, she will always be in yours too.” With that, Sansa kissed him again. It didn't matter that there were guards around to see them or anyone else. Once they broke apart, Sansa started to pull Baelish toward their chambers. Arya would be gone for hours and she wanted to use that time to be with her husband. Once they were inside and the door closed behind them, Sansa felt herself being pressed up against it. Their kiss was passionate and heated until their lips broke apart.

“How are you? Really?” Baelish asked as he played with the ties on her black dress. His hands went inside and he grasped her breast. They both knew he didn't just mean her nausea but everything that had occurred the past week. He would greatly enjoy taking her to bed either way but he wanted her to get enjoyment out of it as well. 

“Right now? Better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. So this is the end of Roslin and Edmure's story line. They might be mentioned throughout the remainder and in the epilogue but they will not actually appear again. This chapter was mainly to tie up loose ends on their part. They do have their happy ending of course. 
> 
> As for Arya, well her storyline is progressing forward. I had always intended for Syrio to make an appearance and I like the idea that it was Petyr who set up the lessons instead of Ned in this. Like Sansa stated, he isn't doing it out of the goodness of his heart but rather he had other motives for doing so. Petyr likes to play the LONG LONG game.


	61. Chapter 61

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think that you all will enjoy this chapter.....

Chapter Sixty One 

The howling was just another reminder. Greywind was feeling lost and alone. Lady and Nymeria made a habit of staying close to him; the two direwolves knowing when one of their pack was in pain. Yet, the howling was never ending. Sansa went to him and took him in the same way she did with Lady. While Greywind was receptive to her, it wasn't the same. Sansa was not Robb and no amount of kindness would ever be able to forge the relationship between master and wolf. She knew that if it were needed, Greywind would protect her with the same devotion Lady felt but she could never replace Robb; Sansa didn't want to. Ned never allowed Greywind and Nymeria in their chambers and Sansa wondered if the outcome would have been different if he had. 

It was strange having their chambers so full. Lady was surrounded by wolves again and it was clear she was enjoying the company. She no longer slept in the chamber on the pillow beside the bed. Now she would curl up in a corner with Nymeria and Greywind beside her. It wasn't just the addition of two giant direwolves but Arya as well. She was settling in well enough but she spent most of her time with Syrio, unless Sansa needed her through the day. She was always back by the evening meal with stories of her lessons. Baelish would inquire after them and Arya was always more than happy to accommodate his questions. 

The pain of their loss still lingered and they suspected that it always would. There were nights when Sansa would wake up from a nightmare with Baelish's arms secured around her. Other nights, Arya's screaming would send both of them running and Sansa would hold her sister until she cried herself back to sleep. Outside of the chambers however, none of them showed their emotions. It was far too dangerous for anyone to see any type of weakness. 

Arya had gone to bed early, she had not been able to sleep the night before and the lesson with Syrio caused exhaustion to overcome her. She left Baelish and Sansa after the evening meal in the common chamber. Baelish was wearing a loose pair of breeches and his tunic was open. He was reading one of his many leather-bound books while Sansa's bare legs laid across his lap. Her red hair was damp from an evening bath and she wore nothing more than a robe that was tied around her waist. She was working on her embroidery, hoping to create something special. 

She lifted her eyes to look at Baelish but he was distracted. His lips moved with the words on the page, completely engrossed by what he was reading. It was on the tip of her tongue as it had been several times before. She wanted to tell him even though he already knew. While there was still time to be proven wrong or for her to lose that hope as so many women have before her, she didn't want to hold it back anymore. Even though she knew she had to. She was excited of course but the thought also terrified her. If she spoke the truth aloud, then it became real. 

Sansa was pulled from her thoughts by a knock on their chamber door. Baelish's head snapped up and his brow creased in confusion. He clapped his book closed and moved Sansa's legs. She put her embroidery down and stood from the couch. Baelish held out his hand, telling Sansa to stand back. He picked up the dagger with the direwolf engraving and held it behind his back. The three wolves perked up and moved toward Baelish. Lady left Greywind and Nymeria and made her way toward Sansa. Lady stood between her mistress and whatever lay on the other side of the door.

The hour was late and unusual for a social call. After the double murder of Ned and Robb, it made them realize that they were not safe in their own chambers. Baelish made sure that two guards were positioned outside of their doors at all time and he wanted the wolves in their chambers in the evening. Baelish reinforced his desire to have Lady with Sansa at all times. Sansa only agreed if Baelish would take Greywind with him if he had to work a late night in his solar. She would have insisted on more but she knew that he would not be able to take Greywind to his small council meetings or to the brothel with him; but she was going to push for what she knew she would be able to get. 

Baelish reached up and unlocked the bolt at the top of the door. He put his hand on the brass doorknob and turned. Once the door opened there was a single gold cloak on the other side. He reached out and handed Baelish a single sealed piece of parchment before turning and leaving him behind. Baelish closed the door and stood looking down at it. He took the dagger and cut the parchment open, trying to avoid any type of poison that might have been laced at the seal. He unfolded it carefully, only touching it as little as possible. 

“What is it?” Sansa asked. She reached down and began to scratch Lady behind the ears while Nymeria and Greywind went back to their pillow. She could see the Baratheon seal from where she stood and knew that whatever was in Baelish's hand had come from the King. If Tywin had been the one to send it, the seal would have belonged to the Lannisters. “What does it say?”

“It's a royal decree.” He looked up at her and held out the parchment to her. Sansa stepped forward and took it from his hands. She looked down at the elegant handwriting, knowing very well that Joffrey may have signed it but he had not written this at all. She wondered if he even commanded it or if Tywin had forced him into it. “Congratulations. You have been named Wardeness of the North.” 

It seemed shocking to her at first. She moved away from the sofa and sat at the wooden table. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the decree in her hands. Baelish moved to sit in the chair next to her, watching her reactions. While she knew that she was next in line for the title it never really occurred to her that she would inherit Winterfell and the land that came with it. Her Uncle Benjen should have been next in line after but it has been years since he had been seen on the Wall. He disappeared during one of the raids and had never been heard from since. For a moment she thought of Jon but he had been labeled a traitor when he abandoned the Wall. 

“I...I don't know if I want this.” Sansa whispered as Baelish took the decree from her hands and placed it onto the table. He brought her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles. He didn't say anything but she knew how he felt. She knew that he was happy that the North was completely in their grasps; that they had full control. The price they had to pay was extreme but at least the prize at the end was worth something. If she didn't believe that Baelish would never do anything that would cause her harm, she might have thought that he had something to do with her family's death. However, she knew that he would never do such a thing to her; someone else of course, but not her. “But it does not matter what I want.” 

“We can use this.” Baelish kissed her hands again. “This will give you power and respect. It will give you a station. You are no longer just Lady Baelish, wife of the Lord of Harrenhal and Master of Coin. No are no longer just the Daughter of Winterfell, beauty from the North. Now you are Heiress to Winterfell, Wardeness of the North. You are far more valuable to the court and far more powerful. That will protect you if you use it correctly.”

“What does it matter? Winterfell is in shambles. The North is in complete debt now that the deal with Stevron is off the table. Roslin was the key to the North's restoration and now that she is shacking up with my Uncle and becoming his wife, it gives Stevron no incentive to hold to his end of the bargain.” Her tone was bitter but light. She was just tired after everything they had been through in the last week. She slumped back into her chair but didn't release her hand from her husband's. 

“We have enough gold to cover the repairs and then some. I promise you that Winterfell will one day be as beautiful as it was on the day I married you.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “And I am good with making gold appear when I need it. I will bring the North out of debt just like I put the entirety of Westeros there.” He kissed her lips before pulling away completely. “And don't worry about Stevron, he won't be anyone’s problem soon.” 

“What do you mean?” When Baelish said nothing but instead just smirk, Sansa had her answer. “You're going to have him killed aren't you? Why?” 

“We no longer have a mutual interest. He knows the role I played in the death of his father. Stevron is a fool and wouldn't think twice about spilling those beans. He wouldn't realize that he would compromise himself in the process. I can't risk him telling that little secret.” Baelish stood and walked over to the pitcher that held some wine. He poured two goblets and brought one over to Sansa. She understood his reasoning, more than willing to end Stevron's life it meant protecting Baelish from any type of prosecution for Walder Frey's death. 

“Who inherits once he is taken care of?” She brought the wine to her lips looking at her husband. There was a time that the mere thought of sending as assassin after someone would have been unimaginable but now it was almost second nature. 

“His son Ryman. He almost reminds me of a less attractive version of our late King, only without the bravery and the skill in battle. He is far more the fool than his father.” Sansa raised an eyebrow at him, not really believing that someone could be more the fool than Stevron. “Believe it Sweetling. Ryman Frey is nothing more than a drunken lecher who will be easy enough to fool. Stevron won't make it back to the Twins and that fool will be Lord of the Crossing. He won't survive a year.” Sansa appeared more relaxed than before. “We will figure it out. The people of the North will rally behind you. You just have to make a choice about what you want to do.” Baelish brought his hands to her face and kissed her gently. “Okay?” Sansa nodded.

“I will write to Luwin in the morning, tell him of the news. He will be glad that it is me and not someone else.” She stood from the table and made her way toward the window. She looked out at King's Landing but not really seeing it. Her mind was too focused on the decisions that lay ahead of her. “I will ask him to rule over Winterfell in my stead. I will make it very clear that it might be a year at least before we are able to travel North, or at least until I am ready to face those walls again. If Winterfell or the North will need anything all he has to do is ask and I will make sure it is provided for. I will have him send me monthly updates on the progress. I will control everything from afar. You once told me that many things can be accomplished over great distances.” 

“You trust Maester Luwin with your home? With the North?” 

“I trust him with my life. He has proved that on more than one occasion.” She turned away from the window and looked at her husband. She could see the pride in his eyes and she knew that he would support her no matter the decision she made. She could easily turn her back on the North but Baelish was correct. The North held power and that power now belonged to her. Baelish stood from his chair and walked to his wife. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his forehead against her's.

“There is my Wardeness.” He kissed her then in congratulations. He was proud of her. If she had been anyone else, he would manipulate her and control the North through her; but he wasn't going to do that. He would advise her when she requested it but the North belonged to her. He wanted her to take control and become the woman he knew she was capable of becoming. He saw it in her the moment he stepped off his horse and kissed her gloved hand for the very first time. “You will make the North great again. Anything you require of me, it is yours.” 

“You're far too good to me.” She placed her hands on his face and he turned his head slightly to kiss the palm of her hand. She then weaved her fingers through his greying hair and brought his lips to hers. They kissed passionately. Baelish allowed Sansa to have control has he had done many times in the past. She was the only person he trusted enough to share that control with. 

Sansa ran her hand up his clothed torso and pulled at the opening of his silk tunic. She forced it open completely and then pushed it down his shoulders until it hit the floor. Baelish looked at her with lust-covered eyes and Sansa couldn't help but grin in satisfaction. She brought the tip of her pointer finger to the top of his scar. Slowly she traced it all the way down to his navel. She brought herself forward and pressed her clothed chest to him. She kissed up his jaw line before bringing her lips to the hollow of his ear. 

“Sit down.” 

“As you wish.” Baelish replied in a raspy voice. Sansa placed the palm of her hand on his chest and backed him up gently. With a small push, she forced him back down in the wooden chair he had just been in. Baelish could only smirk, enjoying being at her complete mercy. She parted his legs slightly, placing her knee on the wood; her robe revealing her bare thigh as she did so. 

She once again brought her hands to his hair and tugged on it, forcing his head back. Sansa leaned down and caught her husband in a forceful kiss until their need to breathe overcame them. She only stopped for a moment before she trailed her lips down the side of his jaw until she reached his collarbone. She licked and bit at him, knowing full well that she was going to leave marks on his skin. He was always completely covered when in proper company, so she would not have to worry about questionable eyes seeing such marks. 

Once she broke away from his collarbone, the tip of her tongue traced the top of his scar. She kissed her way down, circling his nipples as she went. She continued to kiss her way down his chest until she was fully on her knees in front of him. Her hooded eyes look up at him and it was in his gaze that she saw his complete desire. His chest heaved and his nails dug into the wooden table, right beside the royal decree with Joffrey's signature. 

Sansa pulled on one string of his breeches, making him hiss as she brushed over the sensitive bulge there. Baelish hissed at the contact but she still pulled each tie looser, smirking at him as she went. Once his breeches were completely open, she pulled then down slightly. Baelish lifted his hips to allow her to pull them down enough that he was free from the constraint. Sansa ran her hands up his thighs before placing a kiss on the top of him.

She took him in hand and smeared the precum over the tip of his appendage. She licked the tip of him, eyeing him as she did. He clenched his teeth, repressing a moan as she took him completely into her mouth. His head fell back at the feel of her warm, moist mouth around him. He weaved his hands through her red hair, guiding her as she sucked on him. She took him in as far as she could and cupped the root of him, massaging as she went. Her teeth would scrape him lightly but she would never bite down on him, learning from a prior mistake. 

“Oh, Gods. Sansa I won't last long if you continue to do that with your-” Sansa swirled her tongue around him causing him to lose the completely ability to speak. His nails scraped the top of her scalp, pulling at her. Understanding what he needed, Sansa released her mouth from him but gave him one last long lick up the entirety of him before coming to her feet. She reached down and pulled his breeches to his ankles completely. She kissed him on the mouth, allowing him to taste his musky self upon her lips. 

Sansa pulled away from him and stood a ways back. He didn't move but watched her, knowing better than to reach for her. She touched the tie that held her robe together and pulled one before she pulled another. The robe fell open, exposing her but only slightly. She slid the blue silk robe off one shoulder and gave him a coy smile. Baelish moved the hand that had been digging into the wooden table and allowed his elbow to rest there. His fingers moved to his lips, remembering her kiss as he continued to gaze upon her. Sansa slid the robe off the other shoulder and then allowed it to pool at her feet. 

She stood before him completely bare, with her red hair covering her breasts. At the sight of her, Baelish brought his other hand to his member and stroked himself gently. Sansa moved her hair to the back of her, making her body more visible to him. By the sight of him biting his lower lips she could tell that he was pleased by what he saw. Her body had changed slightly; her breasts were fuller and far more sensitive. Her hips became slightly wider but the changes were only minor. She had worried that he wouldn't find her attractive once she lost that tall, slender figure he had grown to adore but it appeared that she was proven wrong. He still gazed upon her with complete indefinable desire. None of his girls at the brothel could compare to her. 

Sansa placed one of her feet in front of the other and made her way over to her husband. She placed her hands on his forearm, tracing it up the side of him. Baelish removed his hand from himself and placed it on her hip, giving it a gentle squeeze. There were no arms on the wooden chair, which made it easy for her place her legs on either side of him. Baelish released her and aligned himself with her entrance. He traced the tip of himself along her dripping wet slit. The light trace of him caused her to whimper with desire. Once he was matched up with her again, Sansa pressed down, taking him completely inside of her. 

The feel of him caused her to lose her breath for a second. She pressed her forehead against his, their eyes meeting for a moment. Baelish leaned up, moving inside of her ever so slightly and kissed her lips for a split second. Then he kissed her again and again until the exchange grew more heated. Sansa rolled her hips, causing him to hiss into her lips. They broke apart but Sansa continued to rotate her hips against him. She lifted herself up for a brief moment before sliding down on his again. She did this over and over until she forced herself to go fast. 

“Petyr!” She called out his name as she rode him. Baelish placed his hands on her hips, helping her keep her temp. She gripped his shoulders, digging her nails into him until she began to draw a small amount of blood. The creak of the chair below them made her wonder if it was going to give out. Baelish could feel himself getting close. He moved his left hand across her stomach and then down to her center. His eyes never left hers as he began to twirl her nub. “Oh! Don't stop.”

Sansa wrapped her arms around his shoulders, bringing herself closer to him. The angle shifted and he began to hit new spots inside of her. The change caused him to let out a deep growl from the back of his throat. He moved his finger faster and faster against her until he felt her stiffen and her back arch, pressing her breast against him. Sansa cried out in pleasure and Baelish released his seed inside of her; feeling her hot breath against his shoulder. 

They stayed in each other's arms, coming down from their high. Once they caught their breaths, Sansa pulled away and stood, causing him to slide out of her. She whimpered but still moved off of him. Her legs felt weak and there was a small ache between her legs but it was incredible. She turned and bent down to pick up her robe. She looked over her shoulder and saw Baelish eyeing her backside with a smirk on his face. She giggled and stood with her robe in hand. 

While she tied the silk robe around her, Baelish stood and pulled up his breeches. Once his breeches were secure, he strolled over to his wife and pulled her back against him, his arm making its way around her stomach. His other hand pushed her red hair to the side and kissed the base of her neck. She giggled again at the feel of his beard against her skin. 

“Down boy, we don't want to wake Arya.” Her tone was teasing and light. Baelish nipped at her shoulder, causing her to smack him lightly. He laughed at her and she turned in his arms. She kissed him lightly on the lips. “I'm going to go and clean myself before your seed cakes itself to my thighs.” She pulled away and picked up her half filled goblet of wine. She threw him a teasing look over her goblet before heading toward their personal chambers 

Baelish watched as she went, smirking at her retreating form. He picked up his own goblet and brought it to his lips. He sat back down in the chair that he had just allowed his wife to fuck him on and picked up the parchment that rested on the wooden table. He looked over the words again. Baelish never would have executed such a plan that would have cost Ned and Robb's life in order to receive the North. Perhaps he would have in another life but not now; not when it would cause Sansa such pain. He would kill anyone else but not them. Putting that aside, he couldn't help but feel a deep sense of satisfaction that the North now belonged to Sansa. Baelish would make good on his promise and help her make it great again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, Sansa has the North for good now....Thoughts, Theories, Concerns? Anyone?


	62. Chapter 62

Chapter Sixty Two

The sweat poured down her skin. Her hair clung to her forehead and to the back of her neck as she danced. The sword was firm in her grip as she held it upright. Her feet moved from one side to another as she eyed her dancing master. He pivoted toward her but she blocked him easily. The sound of her sword hitting his was as beautiful as a freshly composed symphony. This was her music. This was her dance. She had never been like those other girls, fawning over knights and learning some form of art or another. This was something far more precious. This was the dance of life and death. 

The stone beneath her feet acted as a stage. Her audience was the man she fought against. Syrio was her teacher, her friend and the man who she knew would help her prefect her craft. Each clank of their swords brought a new wave of adrenaline rushing through her veins. While she knew that he would never strike to draw blood, one day she would have an adversary who would. It was a dance now; one day soon, it could be her last.

Arya moved to the left as Syrio jolted forward. He missed her but moved his sword just so that if Arya had not been quick enough, their dance would be over; and she would have lost. She was fast and he had told her that she would need to use that to her advantage, making up for her small stature. Her lack of height should not be viewed as a weakness that she needed to overcome but a strength that empowered her. Syrio proclaimed her to be one of his better students and he had trained many swordsmen from across the narrow sea. The compliment caused her great pride and her pride was one of the few things she had left to hang onto. 

She had thrown herself into her lessons even though they exhausted her by the end of the day. The exhaustion allowed her to fall into a dreamless sleep. When she closed her eyes at night and she wasn't exhausted, she would see her family's broken corpses. Nightmares would follow and she would wake screaming, tears drifting down her cheeks. Sansa would hold her until she was able to calm herself and while Baelish was not one to give her comfort, there would always be an extra serving of pudding for her at the evening meal. 

Arya knew that Sansa was equally affected by the loss and her inheriting Winterfell didn't help the emotions that she felt. There were times when she would pass by the closed door of Sansa and Baelish's sleeping chambers that she would hear Sansa crying and Baelish's kind words to her. Yet, outside of those moments, Sansa didn't allow herself to be ruled by her emotions. She didn't want anyone to see the pain that she was feeling. She couldn't afford to appear weak to those who wanted to harm her. 

Arya dodged forward, knocking Syrio's sword from his hand and held Needle outright, grazing Syrio's throat. Syrio held his hands up in defeat but wore and extremely proud smile upon his Bravvosi lips. Arya pulled away and bowed, as was custom at the end of her lesson. She was startled when she heard a light clapping and turned toward the archway leading away from the secluded balcony. Sansa was leaning against a pillar, clearly having watched the match. Her red hair flowed down her back as she balled the black fabric in her hands, allowing her to take the stone steps one at a time. She gave Syrio a small smile.

“Syrio, I was hoping to pull my sister away if the two of you were finished.” The man from Bravvos nodded and wished them both a good day. While she could have continued to push herself, her legs were feeling weak. She was tired and welcomed the distraction Sansa was willing to provide. Once Syrio had left the balcony, Sansa held out her arm for Arya to link hers with her sister's. They strolled away from the balcony in the opposite direction of Syrio's retreating figure. “You seem to be enjoying your lessons.” 

“Immensely.” Arya beamed at her sister. Her lessons had become the only light she had in such a dark time. It was an escape from reality and when reality was persistent, she imagined that the man holding the other sword was an enemy. She imagined Joffrey, the Kingslayer, Theon, some faceless guard who slaughtered her father and brother. She pretended that she killed them all. Perhaps it was foolish but those moments of fantasy were what allowed her to wake in the morning. “I only wished you had such a distraction.”

This caused Sansa to giggle. “You have your sword play and I have my husband. Trust me on this. He is all the distraction I need, sometimes far too much.” There was a hint of bitterness in her tone. Arya bit her lip and looked up at her sister, seeing the scowl on hers. When Arya had arrived back from her lesson the night before, it was later than usual. It was not the first time she had been late but as long as Nymeria, who was currently trailing behind them, was with her, neither Sansa nor Baelish seemed to mind the lateness of the hour. Her two guardians knew exactly what she was up to, so neither made an effort to install some kind of curfew. When she passed the two guards and entered the chambers, she could hear raised voices.

“The two of you got into an argument last night.” It was unusual for Sansa and Baelish to fight but it did happen on an occasion. When they did fight, they kept it behind the closed doors of their bedchamber. Arya wasn't a fool and knew that before she had taken residence with them, they would have had it out in any place of their personal chambers. While Arya was not above eavesdropping, she respected her sister's privacy and refused to break that trust, she could hear Baelish's calm but stern voice, mingling with Sansa's high pitched infuriated one. Also, she knew that Sansa would tell her what they had bickered about, as she had every other time they had gotten into a fight. 

“Unfortunately, we did.” She sighed. They turned a corner and headed toward the gardens. Sansa had taken a liking to them since the Lannisters rarely made an appearance there due to Margaery's constant presence. Cersei didn't want to be around her and while Joffrey still doted on his future bride, their relationship had taken a turn when he attacked her. The only member of the Lannister family she would see in the garden would be Myrcella and Sansa suspected she knew of her brother's treatment toward Margaery. Even Tommen didn't grace the gardens, most likely trying to hide his affection for Margaery, on her orders. “But don't worry, we will fine. We fight but our marriage if fine.” 

“What was the fight about?” Arya asked as the made their way through the garden, passing red roses, purple violets and yellow daises. The stone pathway was a short cut toward their chambers. With two wolves behind them and Arya carrying a sword, it was not wise to be seen by too many people. It was the quickest route and Arya wanted to bathe in order to clean herself of the sweat. 

“Lord Tyrion.” When a confused look passed across Arya's features, Sansa pressed onward. “He has taken up residence in one of the brothels and I want him gone. He is causing discomfort to some of the girls. However, Petyr wants him to stay. I could be persuaded but Petyr won't tell me why. He has never before withheld something from me and I do not like it.” 

“He won't tell you?”

“No and I tried every possible manner of persuasion I could think of, and I mean everything and he still will not tell me. Either way, we will be fine. I will find out eventually, one way or another.” She huffed lightly before looking down at her sister. “I didn't pull you from your lesson to complain about Petyr. Well, it's not the only reason. I wanted to know how you are fairing.” 

“I'm alright. The lessons keep me busy.” They opened a wooden door, a back entrance that led into the Red Keep. They walked through a corridor, heading for a stairway that led to their chambers. When Arya didn't continue, Sansa looked over to her sister and could tell that something was on her mind. She probed her sister farther. “There is one thing that I am curious about.”

“What is it?” Sansa noticed that whatever was weighing on Arya's mind, had been for several days. There were many things that Sansa could think of that might cause distress to Arya. The fact that their family had been murdered on two separate occasions and those who were responsible remained uncaught. 

“It's just... when father was.....when he...”Arya stopped in the middle of the corridor and closed her eyes. Sansa could see her shoulders tense and after several deep breathes, Arya opened her eyes again. Speaking of Ned and Robb, and even Catelyn and Rickon, caused a painful reaction. “When he was...passing... he spoke of a lie he told mother, something about Jon. He said that he was Lyanna's son.” Sansa looked deep into her sister's eyes and could tell that their father's lie had wounded her deeply. She had lain awake at night hating her father and then feeling guilty for doing so. She didn't know the details behind the lie and was not able to rationalize like Sansa had done when she learned the truth. “He preached about honesty and yet he kept one of the biggest secrets from his children. I just don't understand.” 

“Father had his reasons for keeping that secret and I can't blame him for doing so.” Sansa replied and it suddenly occurred to Arya that her sister had known about Jon. She couldn't help but feel offended and hurt that Sansa had not told her when she assumed they shared almost everything with each other. The offense was written clearly on her face. “I wanted to tell you but it was one of those things that needed to be kept between as few people as possible.” 

“How did you find out?” Arya leaned away and crossed her arms. While she would not verbalize her irritation with her sister, she was not fully able to accept her reasoning. Sansa sighed in annoyance. Her husband was irritated with her, as she was with him and because of that, she did not want Arya angry with her as well. If it meant coming completely clean about Jon then so be it. If Baelish didn't like her reasoning then she could just add it to the things they were bickering about at the moment. 

“From Petyr.” Baelish was the last person Arya would have expected. She had thought that perhaps their father had divulged that secret to her himself and she felt slightly better that it was not the case. Sansa looked around and saw a few people milling about. She knew Arya would have questions and the middle of the corridor was not a place for such a conversation. Sansa took her arm again, pulling her toward their chambers. Once they reached them, opened the wooden door and Arya placed Needle against the stone wall, Sansa ordered Ros to bring several buckets of hot water for a bath. 

They didn't speak at first. Sansa had thought that Arya would be bombarding her with questions but she didn't. She was quiet and when Ros returned with a few other servant girls in order to fill the bath, it became impossible to speak. Once the bath was full and the steam was rolling off of the water, Sansa dismissed Ros, explaining that she would help her sister. Arya stripped down and eased herself into the hot water. She let herself soak as Sansa eased some oils and herbs in her hair. 

“How did Petyr know?” 

“The maester that helped Aunt Lyanna through labor and delivered Jon had come into Petyr's employ. He had told Petyr about the child before he died.” Arya nodded, accepting that logic but still she had trouble with the knowledge that Jon was not her brother at all, but her cousin instead. She had always been so close to him and she knew that he always wondered who his mother was. With him missing from the Wall, she couldn't even write to him and even if she did know, she wouldn't write to him incase he would be found and arrested for treason. “He knows, if that is what you're worried about. Petyr told Jon the truth when he arrived at Winterfell, on our wedding day.” While that had not been the topic of their argument the night before, Sansa found that she was irritated by all of Baelish's schemes, past and present, at the moment. It was irrational and she knew that but she couldn't help it. 

“Who else knows the truth?” Arya wondered if she was the only one out of the loop. Had everyone in her family learned the truth and no one bothered to inform her? Sansa claimed to have her reasons and while Arya could see the logic behind them, it didn't make it hurt any less. She also wondered why if Jon knew, he hadn’t confided in her? 

“Father of course. Petyr. Jon once Petyr told him and I forced Petyr to tell me when I spied him having a conversation that clearly irritated Jon. Jon confronted Father who was furious of course. He was terrified that Petyr would inform Mother and wanted the news to come from him, so he told Mother before we left for King's Landing.” Sansa let out a breath once she was done speaking. It was the short version but long enough to cover the events of what had transpired. 

“Does Jon know who his father is?” The thought had just occurred to her. It must have been a shock to learn that Ned was not his father at all. She could see the anger spreading across his face and the disbelief. She knew Jon and he would have been distrustful of Baelish when he learned that secret. He would have confronted Ned in order to confirm what he had learned. 

“Not for certain but Petyr thinks that it is Rhaegar Targaryen.” Arya turned in the bath to look at Sansa with wide eyes. They both had been raised with the story of Lyanna's rape and murder. She had become a lesson of sorts and one that the old Sansa had ignored. “Rhaegar didn't kidnap her. She loved him and left with him willingly. If Jon is the son of Rhaegar, he was born out of love, not violence.” Thinking on Jon, Arya agreed that it was not possible for Jon to be the product of rape. “I'm sorry for not telling you sooner. If I thought for one moment that it would change something or make things better, I would have. I just...I thought that it was best for it to be kept quiet. I never meant to hurt you in any way.” 

“I know.” She wanted to say more, express how she felt but she couldn't. Their time together had been cut short. They heard the door open and close. Baelish's voice sounded, calling out Sansa's name. She stood and dried her hands on one of the plush towels lying on the table next to some vials. She tossed Arya a small smile, one that was only half-heartily returned. Sansa left the bathing room and closed the door behind her. Baelish was standing in the center of the common area taking off his outer coat, revealing his tunic beneath. 

“Arya is bathing.” Sansa stated with a nod toward the closed door. She crossed her arms and looked away. While they had argued before, it rarely lasted longer than a few rounds before one of them found their way onto their backs with the other on top of them. This time was different. Instead of martial relations ending their argument, Sansa becoming ill and bile finding its way over the balcony side did. While it was obvious that they were still irritated with each other, Baelish had been very kind to her after that and Sansa felt far too ill to continue arguing. She had hoped that by morning, these emotions would have settled but when she awoke, she was alone with nothing more than a note stating that Baelish received a raven and that he would be back soon. When soon turned into a couple of hours, Sansa grew tired of waiting and went in search of Arya. In case Baelish would return while she was out, she had left a note with the same curt tone he left her with. 

“Good. It would be best if you heard it together.” Sansa eyes narrowed at him. He wasn't worried and he didn't have that look of desperation he had when he broke the news of Catelyn and Rickon's death. She knew that whatever was plaguing his mind was nothing regarding life or death. It made Sansa relax for a moment, she did not believe that she could handle another death; she would lose the last bit of sanity she had left. 

“What is it?” 

“Let's wait-”

“Just tell me!” She snapped at him and he gave her an irritated look. However, he didn't want to fight with her any more. Baelish had been distracted throughout the entire day, dreading heading back to their chambers to face an angry wife. Before Sansa had come into his life, his chambers had been a place for brief moments of sleep and solitude, a place where his perfectly crafted facade could unravel. After their marriage, it became more than just a place for rest. Their chambers became the one place that he could truly be with her. It had become a home. But never before had he dreaded returning at the end of the day. He sighed and walked over to her. He placed both of his hands on her shoulders. She tensed slightly but relaxed after a few moments. He rubbed his thumbs over the black fabric before leaning in and kissing her forehead. Sansa couldn't help but lean into him; it was a reflex now. 

“I don't want to fight with you.” His tone was muffled in her hair. Sansa rested her head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. “I love a good argument but fighting with you is just awful.”

“Then why won't you tell me?” He knew that she was not referring to why he had come looking for her but what they had been fighting about. He realized that when he withheld one thing, everything he had ever failed to tell her about would come back full force. The night before she had thrown King Robert's death at him along with Tyrion. He knew that when Sansa and he fell into an argument, that would always be brought up. Perhaps it wouldn't have been as painful for Sansa if the small deception had not occurred on their wedding day. 

“It's not that I don't want to tell you but rather it is best that you do not know.” She pulled away from him and Baelish could see the iron still in her eyes. She wanted to push him away but he didn't allow her to, instead keeping her close. “Tyrion has his part to play. If everything goes as I hope it will then it is important that we keep Tyrion close.” 

“You did make a promise that if Joffrey ever laid a hand on me that Tyrion would pay for it. Is this some kind of retribution? Repayment for what Joffrey has done?” She looked at him and she knew that he would deny it. She was unclear as to what her husband had planed for the dwarf but she knew that it was vengeance for something Tyrion couldn't control. Tyrion had promised to keep the boy King away from Sansa and he had failed at doing so. Something such as her assault and a broken promise was not something Baelish would be able to let go. “You're going to kill him aren't you?” 

“Tyrion's death would not benefit anyone. No. He has a much bigger role to play.” Sansa could tell that Baelish would not mind if Tyrion died but if he could find some use for him, that logical strategy would outweigh how he might feel about being the cause of Tyrion's downfall. “I know you want to know and I promised that I would never lie to you again, but I never promised to tell you everything. One day you will know but it can't be today.” 

Before Sansa could respond, the door to the bathing chamber opened and Arya stepped out in fresh clothing. Her hair was wet and she was drying it with a towel. She looked between the two of them, knowing that their argument was over or at least at a stalemate. Seeing them angry at each other felt unnatural to her. While it was always uncomfortable when her parents argued, it felt different with Sansa and Baelish. Her sister and her brother-in-law were far more in-tune with each other than her parents ever could have been. 

“Everything okay?” Arya asked.

“Yeah. Petyr has something he needs to tell us.” She gave her husband an understanding smile; she was willing to let the conversation regarding Tyrion go for the time being. She grabbed her sister's hand and looked at her husband. While Arya was displeased with her sister, she wouldn't turn away from the small bit of comfort that was offered. “What is it?”

“There has been an arrest.” They looked at him with confused eyes and he gave a light, bitter-filled laugh. “Well, perhaps arrest isn't the right word, surrender is a better term. Anyway it was made in connection with the murder of your mother and brother.” Sansa's eyes widened and she could hear Arya suck in a breath. Neither of them was expecting such an announcement. After everything that had happened catching those responsible for Catelyn and Rickon's murder had fallen into a hopeless category. 

“Theon?”

“No.” Baelish shook his head. “His wife.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well there are a couple things happening in this chapter. 
> 
> No I did not forget about Jon. His story line is still happening in the background...
> 
> And now Jeyne Poole is back in the picture. 
> 
> Thoughts?


	63. Chapter 63

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. School has kept me a bit busy. I want to give thanks to my awesome beta, Cris. She is fantastic

Chapter Sixty Three

Sansa was far underneath the Red Keep and each step was taking her in deeper than she had ever dared go before. Not a single ray of sunlight could be seen in such a dark, haunted place. The only sounds that could be heard were the flicker of her torch, the patter of her footsteps and the dripping of leaking water hitting the stones. The walls were stone and covered in dust. She touched them briefly, allowing her fingers to trace over the creases in between them. Those who were captured were spread out and when Sansa would pass a cell, for a brief second she could hear weeping inside. She knew that most of the prisoners were innocent, put there for Joffrey's amusement. She briefly wondered which cell Cersei had occupied when her own son locked her away.

Baelish had thought that she was mad when she insisted on seeing Jeyne Greyjoy. He wanted to leave that stone unturned. He still had bounty hunters out looking for Theon and they never failed to find their target. Yet she wouldn't relent; Sansa wanted to make that journey under the Red Keep to see her. Baelish attempted to convince her otherwise but realized that she wouldn't rest until she found a way. He agreed but only if she allowed him to escort her there. They would take two guards with them and both Lady and Greywind would accompany them.

Sansa turned back to see the two wolves trailing along, hardly fitting in the small corridor. Passing a few prisoners, the unfortunate souls would reach through the bars and brush against their furs. One even touched her skirt, grabbing her ankle, causing her to nearly trip. Baelish caught her and banged on the bars, making the prisoner scurry away from them. While she knew that many of the prisoners who were locked away were innocent and only there because they somehow angered the King, Sansa refused to allow herself to show any type of pity or remorse for them. If they were able to survive their time locked away in their cells, then it was certain that Joffrey would have them put to death, if not killing them himself. The chances of Joffrey being caught on a good enough day to not execute them, was unlikely. 

She didn’t want to think about Jeyne’s fate. While she knew that Jeyne would not have had any involvement with the invasion of Winterfell, as she did not have the stomach for such unpleasantness that did not mean she would be spared. Joffrey was bloodthirsty and it gave him great enjoyment to send anyone to an early grave. However, perhaps the hatred he felt for Sansa and her family could spare her. She knew that Margaery was attempting to sway his decision before the trial but they were not as close as they once had been. Margaery was slowly losing her control over Joffrey and it would eventually become a problem. As long as Joffrey continued be show distrust in his mother, then he would remain in power for the time being. 

She was also conflicted as to why Jeyne would have surrendered herself to the crown. Sansa knew Jeyne and knew that she would never be able to get her hands bloody. Had her old friend changed so much in the months they had been apart? Or was she under her husband’s complete control to the point that she had to bend to his will? Jeyne would have been the type to fall victim to such control. Sansa could never imagine willingly take the blame for someone else’s crime, unless it was her husband. She looked over to Baelish and saw the side of his face in darkness thanks to the flicker of the flame. For him she would do anything. Did Jeyne look at Theon the same way? Sansa couldn’t imagine him receiving such devotion. He didn’t deserve such a thing. 

While she knew that Jeyne surrendering was completely unwise, she could not blame her for the risk she had taken. Sansa had to assume that Jeyne was unaware as to the type of King she was bowing to. When Jeyne had met Joffrey at Winterfell as those years ago, his sadistic nature was hidden, buried deep behind green eyes and golden hair. She could never see him as the monster he truly was, and Sansa never told her the truth. She couldn’t blame Jeyne for something she did not know. It was unclear if she had heard any rumors of the King’s brutality and if she did, perhaps she thought the rumors to be false. Either way, Jeyne had put herself in a very dangerous position. 

They neared her cell and Baelish pulled out a set of iron keys, jingling as they moved. He inserted on skeleton key into the lock and turned, pushing the cell door open with a creak. Sansa brushed past him and stepped into the dingy cell. There was nothing more than a board to serve as a bed and a pot in the corner. Sansa could only assume what the pot was used for. In the other corner she saw her old friend curled into a ball. It appeared that she was leaning her head against the stone, staring at the other side of her cell. When she heard the creaking of the bars, Jeyne turned her head to see Sansa enter. Baelish stayed outside of the cell. 

“Hello Jeyne.” She had to blink a few times before she realized who was standing in front of her. Once she realized that Sansa had come to see her, Jeyne scurried to her feet. She had to grip the wall in order to be able to pull herself up. Once she stood at her full height, Sansa could see the protruding belly of her friend. Jeyne was with child and had to have been when she left Winterfell the day after her wedding. The sight of her friend carrying a child almost made Sansa choke up. When they were younger, they had dreamed of their children being in close succession. Sansa placed her hand on the very small bulge that she had of her own. 

“Sansa. I didn't think you would come to see me.” Her voice was horse as though it had not been used in a few days. She looked down at her hands in shame because she didn't know what to say. She was nervous. “You look very pretty but then again, you always have! I mean your dress is very fine. Is it silk? And your hair, the red curl-”

“Why Jeyne? Just tell me why.” She knew that Sansa was not referring to her clothing but as to the reason as to why she was locked in a cell. For a moment Jeyne didn't know what to say and Sansa wondered if she had grown as a person at all. She remembered the irritation and dislike she had felt during the final weeks of their friendship. Jeyne had opened her mouth several times but then closed it, completely at a lost for words. Sansa huffed and shook her head. “Never mind. I should have listened to my husband and never have come here.” 

“Sansa wait!” Sansa paused as she turned away. She turned back and looked at Jeyne, who took a deep breath as she gathered her thoughts. “I loved him. I really did. I knew that he wasn't perfect but I didn't realize how awful and selfish he could be until we reached the Iron Islands. During the journey, he treated me as he always had, coming to me at night and then letting me be during the day. I never realized how lonely that would be until I had no one but him to rely on.” 

“Was he cruel to you?” Her ice blue eyes scanned Jeyne as though any apparent abuse would be visible right then and there. However, Sansa knew better. Abuse was easily covered by gowns and long hair. Sansa had learned from the best but it seemed that Jeyne had no physical injuries to show. Yet because Theon might not have been violent with her did not mean that he wasn't cruel.

“Not really no. Unless you can count being ignored cruel.” Jeyne began to pick at her nails, slowly ripping them from her fingers. She had never done so before and Sansa wondered if she developed this habit once she realized that her life had fallen down around her. “The only one who was kind to me was Asha, Theon's sister. I told her how I ended up with her brother and she called me a fool. It wasn't until I realized that Theon was bedding a servant girl that I noticed how big of a fool I was. Theon wanted to please his father but Lord Balon would have none of it. When word of your marriage reached us, Theon grew angry.” 

“My marriage caused Theon to do this? The fact that I married Petyr made him want to kill my mother and my baby brother?” Sansa voice grew hysterical. Her heart began to race and she could feel the tears pool in her eyes. “No. I will not take the blame for this. He chose to betray the family who raised him and it was long before he ever took you into his bed.” 

“I don't know what drove him to do it. I really don't.” Jeyne's eyes began to water. She took a step forward but Sansa moved away from her. Jeyne understood that Sansa didn't want to be near her. She sniffled and moved her arms, holding herself together. “One night he came to my chamber, I thought he wanted what he always did. Once I realized that he was only using me, the pleasure wasn't there anymore. However that night he didn't want me. He just said that we were leaving, heading back to Winterfell.”

“He didn't tell you why?”

“No and honestly I didn't care. I was so happy. By that time I suspected that I was with child and having my mother close would give me some comfort. I was lonely and all I could think about was home. It wasn't until we reached the North that I realized that something, that Theon wasn't right. We set up camp just outside of Winterfell, and Theon would watch it for hours. I asked to contact my parents but he refused. He started having me guarded, reading anything I would write. By the time I realized he wanted to overthrow Winterfell and why he had brought so many Iron Born men with us, it was too late.” 

“Were you there?” She had grown deathly cold, her stare able to freeze any man on sight. Her emotions would change in an instant. Sansa didn't know what answer she wanted. She wanted to know in detail how they died. If she knew then perhaps it would make their loss have more meaning. She knew that Rickon went first and that he died in Catelyn's arms before she was murdered. However, the details were unknown to her. But if she learned the truth, she would close her eyes and see them die every night for the rest of her life. That was how it was with Robb, seeing his throat slit open and her father, lying in a pool of his own blood. 

“No.” Jeyne shook her head. Tears really began to fall down her cheeks but she didn't make a sound. “I remained behind but I knew what he had done when he returned to our camp. He was covered in blood and confused about everything. Standing there I realized that he was monster and any love I had for him faded away. Then war broke out, banner-men from the North, the Vale and the Riverlands all marched north. Men I knew started to die around me, one by one they were gone until Theon forced us to run.” 

“And you just went with him? No argument?” A scene in her mind played as though Theon took Jeyne's hand and whisked her off into the sunset. She knew that it never could have played out in such a manner but she couldn't help but imagine it. It was the scene the two of them had dreamt of when they were young girls. “You didn't question running off with a murder? You run off with the man who just murdered the Lady you had served since you were a child? With the man who just killed the child you knew since the day he was born?” 

“What choice did I have?” Jeyne yelled, her voice squeaking. Sansa realized that she had been silent for much longer than she had been locked in that cell. “He was my husband and he demanded that I go with him. I looked around and I saw men dying left and right. I was horrified at what he had done but I had to think of my child first.” Jeyne placed her hand on her stomach and Sansa saw something inside her then. There was a maturity in her eyes that had never been there before. “I thought my chances of keeping my child alive long enough to be born would be better running away with Theon than staying in the middle of a war. Maybe I was wrong, I don't know but I did what I had to do in order to keep myself alive.”

Neither moved after that, both remaining silent. The air was thick between them and both women simply looked at each other. Sansa knew that it was going to be difficult when she decided that she had to come down to see Jeyne. She needed answers and she knew that she was not going to like what she heard. She heard Baelish move behind her and slowly enter the cell. Sansa turned her head and reached out her hand. Baelish squeezed her hand and it gave her strength to look back at Jeyne.

“Where is Theon?”

“I don't know.”

“Jeyne!” 

“I don't know!” She yelled and brought her hand to her lips. She started to cry and Sansa knew that between the weeks of hard travel and the horrid conditions she was living in now Jeyne had reached her breaking point. “If I knew I would tell you. I would tell you in a second because it would mean that I might be free of him. Free to raise my child without his father's influence but I do not know where he is. He left me. He said that I was holding him back and he left me in the Stormlands. So, I made my way here, hoping to gain some mercy or I don't know...something. Forgiveness.” 

Forgiveness was an emotion Sansa rarely felt anymore. Yet, she couldn't help but feel a wave of pity for her because she was the reason Jeyne had been put in that position in the first place. While she couldn't fully forgive her, she did feel a wave of pity for her. The pity was far more overwhelming than any type of forgiveness Sansa would ever feel. It was powerful and guilt followed it. 

“I'm sorry.” The words slipped through Sansa's lips. Jeyne opened her mouth to speak but Sansa raised her hand, cutting her off. “No. Let me speak. I'm sorry that this happened to you. It's my fault. It's my fault that you are here.” Sansa looked down and swallowed. Baelish gave her a warning squeeze of the hand but she ignored it. What did it matter now if Jeyne knew the truth? She had committed no crime and the only people who would be offended by her actions were dead. “I knew you were there that night, in the apothecary. I knew and I made sure that my father found you. I forced your hand into marriage to that monster and the thing is, I would do it again. I wanted Theon gone and it served its purposed. You were just collateral damage.” 

“Sansa.” 

“I'm not a good person Jeyne and I haven't been for a very long time.” Jeyne just looked at her and Sansa could see that maturity and understanding in her eyes. Jeyne was no longer the naive child she had been when they had parted. She grew up fast in a cold and cruel world. Sansa felt sorry for her. “I will make sure that you have some food sent down and some blankets to keep you warm. If you need anything I will make sure it is provided.” 

“Thank you.” Jeyne whispered, not knowing what else to say. She couldn't help but look at Sansa a bit differently than before. Jeyne knew that she was never the smartest girl and she realized that when the world came crashing down upon her. The moment she realized that she was with child wasn't a happy one but it was also the moment she fully began to realize that the world was not a fairytale. When she began to realize the kind of monster Theon was turning into, she had thought that this was just a phase in her song, it wasn't until she became pregnant that she knew that there was no song for her. 

“Don't thank me.” With that Sansa turned and walked out of the cell, Baelish locking it behind them. Baelish never let go of her hand even if it meant being led down the dust and blood covered hall, listening to the screams of prisoners. The guard trailed in front of them, leading the way while the direwolves made up the rear. Baelish realized that Sansa had left her torch in the cell. She wouldn't have forgotten it unless it was on purpose. Despite the fact that Jeyne had always bothered Sansa, she didn't want an old friend sitting in the dark. It wasn't out of kindness that she had left the torch but more so out of guilt. 

Once they reached the opening of the dungeons and the guard left them, Baelish pulled her to the side, leaning her up against the wall and took her face into his hands. He leaned up and kissed her gently, hoping to provide her with some kind of comfort. Her eyes were closed and he could tell that her heart was racing. When she imagined speaking with Jeyne, she never thought that this was how it would go. She never thought that her emotions would betray her in such a manner. She had assumed she would feel angry but never thought about the guilt that would course through her. 

“She is not your fault.” Baelish whispered to her gently. No matter what he said, Sansa couldn't help but feel the blame for her actions. It was one thing to plot and scheme when the outcome was not waved in front of her face. Yet, the very first scheme that she accomplished was now tumbling down around her and a pregnant woman was living in horrible conditions because of her. Sansa had never felt so selfish before. 

“How is it not my fault? I was the one who wanted Theon gone. I wanted him far away from Winterfell so I made it happen. Now Jeyne is here paying for her husband's crimes. Crimes that I pushed him to commit. If I had not pushed him the way I did... If I had not forced his hand into marrying Jeyne, none of this would have happened. Mother and Rickon would still be alive.” Sansa gave a sob and Baelish pulled her into his arms, allowing his fingers to weave through her red hair. 

“If you didn't do what you had to, Jeyne would have been cast out of her family, pregnant with a bastard child and Theon would have been sent away to the Iron Islands anyway. Your father would never have allowed a deed like that to go unpunished. Perhaps he would have forced him to marry her anyway. Either way, Theon would have been angry and would have moved toward Winterfell anyway. You mother and Rickon would have died even if you had nothing to do with Theon's banishment.” Baelish told her and Sansa wanted to hear him. She wanted to believe everything he told her but she knew her husband; her husband was a liar. He had vowed to always be honest with her and he was; only withholding things that were dangerously important. However, she never forbid him from lying to her if it meant bringing her some type of comfort. 

“I just can't imagine what it must be like for her. Alone, cold and locked in a cell, wondering if she and her child would make it out alive. Not knowing what the outside world would hold.” Sansa muttered into Baelish's chest. She pulled away and Baelish placed his hands on the side of her face again, clearing the tears from her cheeks. “I can't imagine being that terrified for our children.” She looked at him directly in the eyes, their unspoken secret lingering there. 

“And I will make sure that never happens.” Baelish promised, taking her hand and placing it over the small bump that could only be visible when she was outside of her clothing. Despite his claims and promises, Sansa had a feeling that he would prove himself wrong. She was terrified that she would find herself in the same position that Jeyne was in now. “I will protect you, Arya and any children we may have. I will never neglect you as Theon did Jeyne. That I can promise you.” 

“Theon was never meant to be a married man.”

“Some men are not while some men adore their wives.” Baelish leaned up and kissed her forehead. “He was given a golden opportunity. He could take his wife, return to the Iron Island as he always dreamed and live out his life. However, he continued to hold onto his anger and resentment toward your family. He let the revenge consume him.”

“And you don't? If I recall our entire life and marriage is built of the game of thrones and the revenge the both of us desire.” Sansa traced the silver mockingbird pin on top of his dark purple coat. She balled her fist in his coat and brought him closer. She kissed his lips with passion and he could sense that she was feeling slightly better than she had been before. “I wouldn't change anything in our marriage for the world. No matter what I would do differently, you are the one thing I would not change. How we met, the night in my father's solar, our wedding, lying in bed next to you every night, I would take none of it back.” 

“Neither would I.” She knew that it was a difficult decision, before he met her, to take another wife. But he needed to do what he had to in order to move his agenda forward. He never expected to find her, someone who shared his desires and someone he desired. His first marriage was out of necessity, which he needed as quickly as he was able. Now, his second marriage he intended to make last but it was so much more than simply needing her for what he could gain from her, it stretched beyond an emotional connection. “I would burn it all before letting you go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is a new Jeyne. She has grown since we last saw her. She was forced to wake up and reality set it. The child she is carrying really made her realize that life did not revolve around her. Her main concern is keeping her child alive and she has done what she had to do. Perhaps running off with Theon was not the best option but it was one she thought would keep her child alive.


	64. Chapter 64

Chapter Sixty Four 

 

People lingered everywhere. Whispered echoed off the stone wall and excited giggling could be heard from every corner. It was less than a day since her surrender and she was to be brought before the King. The last time someone had been brought before King Joffrey, he had been labeled a traitor and he had been executed. As long as it didn't affect them directly, the court would become just as bloodthirsty as the King. What sickened Sansa the most was that she had become the same way. She didn't care how many people Joffrey killed as long as she was the last one standing between the two of them.

Margaery wasn't fairing as well. When Sansa looked upon her, she could see the dark circles under her eyes. She knew that it wasn't simply the mysterious deaths of several servant girls or the disappearance of livestock from the castle grounds that bothered her, but the fear that she felt every day that she awoke. Sansa had been in her position not long ago, experiencing that exact same fear. Now as Margaery sat beside the throne, Sansa wanted to reach out to her but knew that she could not. Margaery, despite her attempts to persuade the King, would have to watch her future husband either kill a pregnant woman or decide some other awful fate. 

Sansa wouldn't call it a trial because it was nothing of the sort. All it was, was someone who was affiliated with someone guilty, pleading for mercy. A real trial had not been held in King's Landing since the reign of King Robert. King Joffrey never had the patience to sit through a full trial’s proceedings. Instead, he preferred to simply find people guilty and have them executed. He felt that he had all the power and that there was no need for assistance in the matters of law and order. Tywin, who stood faithfully behind the throne, knew he couldn't overthrow his King's rule, no matter how much power he had. If he attempted, Joffrey had threatened more than once to take that pin away from him and place it on someone else. Joffrey had become a loose cannon, doing only what he pleased. 

The court hushed when the wooden doors opened. Jeyne appeared, escorted by Gold Cloaks on either side of her. She was in the clothes that Sansa had provided for her. They were not extravagant but Sansa picked them for that purpose. Joffrey was not one to noticed things such as the finery of clothing but it would be suspicious if Jeyne was wearing clothing suitable for a lady of the court. Her ankles were bound by chains that dragged on the floor as she walked. Her wrists were also chained together, making it difficult to walk. The Gold Cloaks had their hands on each of her arms, practically dragging her down the stone throne room. 

Sansa could tell that she was exhausted. Sleeping must be impossible in such horrid conditions and being so heavily pregnant would not make it any easier. Sansa had sent down several items that would bring her comfort, knowing that the King would never bother to even look in on his prisoner. He didn't even visit those whom he tortured; he had those prisoners dragged from their cells to a special room he designated for bringing pain to those he deemed appropriate. Sansa knew that Joffrey would never discover her kindness, especially since she bribed several guards in order to keep their mouths closed. 

Once Jeyne was brought to the front of the crowd, the Gold Cloaks all but threw her down onto the stone flooring. Jeyne caught herself with her hands. Once she was able to regain her balance, Jeyne's hands went to her stomach as though she was cradling the child, protecting it. She rose to her feet as gracefully as she could and looked directly at the King. Sansa could tell that she had hoped that Joffrey had recognized her and that it would possibly bring her some mercy. However, Sansa knew that Joffrey had taken no recognition to her. When Joffrey had been fostered at Winterfell, he never even looked at Jeyne, believing that a lowly stewards daughter was beneath him. Yet, Joffrey's complete dismissal of her did not defer Jeyne's fawning over him and her belief that Sansa had been the luckiest girl in the Seven Kingdoms because she was betrothed to the Prince. 

“Lady Greyjoy, is it?” Joffrey's cold voice drawled through the crowed, causing the chatter to an end. Perhaps it was the calm and collected tone or the evil tint to his eye but Jeyne realized that she would find no mercy from Joffrey. Fear echoed through her as she realized that coming to King's Landing had been a mistake. She had grown up with the belief that Kings were noble and honorable. Now that belief could cost her, not only her life but the life of her child as well. 

“Yes.” Her voice cracked as she spoke. The fear trembled through her as she looked upon the King. Joffrey appeared to enjoy the terror that Jeyne so easily provided. The corner of his perfectly shaped lips curled and a menacing smile appeared. The more Jeyne trembled before him, the more Joffrey shifted in his throne, appearing as though he needed some kind of release. She was unsure if it was the guilt that she was feeling or if it was the thought Jeyne's unborn child but she could not bear the thought of seeing her blood spilled in front of her in the same manner Shae's was. “I am, Your Grace.” 

“And do you know why you are here?” It was patronizing. Joffrey though he was speaking to some low child who could not understand the common tongue. The tone only caused Jeyne to become more fearful. Sansa wondered if she had heard any of the stories that roamed throughout the Seven Kingdoms. Sansa didn't think that she would have been able to hear anything on the run, mainly because she was never one to listen to others when they spoke. Unless the other prisoners were able to speak through the stone walls, Sansa didn't think Jeyne would have learned anything since she made her way to the Capitol. Her fear was completely driven by the man who was in front of her now.

“To answer for the crimes my husband, Theon Greyjoy, has committed against the Stark family.” Arya moved closer to Sansa, linking their hands together. Sansa looked down at her sister and she could see the conflicted desires on her face. Both of them wanted justice but they knew that Jeyne was no guiltier than Sansa was. While their hands might not be completely clean, it wasn't enough for either of them to justify sending Jeyne to the gallows. Sansa wondered if her concern stretched from the regard she once held for the young girl Jeyne used to be. 

“Yes, yes. Many crimes have been committed against the Starks lately.” Joffrey brought his fingers up to his lips, tracing them. “It appears that the family was all but eradicated in the matter of weeks. Pity really, to see such a highborn family fall. The poor execution of your husband's invasion caused the death of a high born lady and her son. Then only weeks later, Lord Stark and his heir are murdered in their own beds. Tell me, could those two things be connected?” Sansa looked at the King in confusion. There was no possible way those two deaths could be linked together. Jeyne's eyes grew wide with the knowledge. She looked around frantically, wondering if anyone would step forward to be her saving grace. 

“I didn't know about that. I swear it. I didn't know!” 

“I know you didn't.” The way he spoke made Sansa's blood boil. Arya gripped her hand tightly, nails digging into her palm. They both realized the same thing. Joffrey knew who murdered their father and brother but he wasn't going to do a thing about it. “It would be too convenient for your husband to take the blame for all four murders. However Lord Theon Greyjoy has not been seen in weeks.” Joffrey paused and looked at her with enjoyment. “Lady Baelish, come here.” 

Sansa's eyes widened and she looked toward her husband. Baelish's eyes grew several shades darker and it appeared that he was not pleased at the thought of his wife being called in front of the court. However there was nothing that neither of them could do. She gave her sister's hand a gentle squeeze and slowly took a step forward. Her eyes never left Joffrey's as she made her way forward. She couldn't hear anything but her blood pulsing in her ears that the sound that her boots made against the stone. The small walk toward the throne felt like an eternity, just like it had felt the day she forced herself to bow in front of the King. She could feel the eyes of the court trailing after her. Joffrey held out his hand as she neared and Sansa forced herself to place her hand into his. When their skin made contact, Sansa suddenly felt disgusted with herself. 

“The death of her family has caused Lady Baelish great pain, but she has been greatly compensated for her loss. As the eldest living child of Eddard and Catelyn Stark, Winterfell has been given to her as well as the title of Wardeness of the North.” Sansa forced herself to tear her eyes away from Joffrey and looked back at Jeyne. Jeyne looked shocked and almost dismayed. She had no clue as to what she was walking into and the news of Ned and Robb's death was hitting her harder than Sansa could have expected. 

“That is an honor my Lady but I am sorry for your loss.” Jeyne whispered. Joffrey's eyes darted between the two woman, wanting to pit them against each other. This wasn't a trial or a judgment for him, it was a game. He was enjoying toying with their emotions; Jeyne's fear and Sansa's grief out on display for the entire court to see. He wanted her to scream at Jeyne, to vent her anger and demand for justice. What Sansa wasn't clear was how Joffrey would act on her pleas. Would he want to play the hero and grant Sansa's wishes, sending Jeyne to her death or would he set her free, hoping to cause Sansa severe emotional turmoil. 

“Sorry? Her mother and brother were murdered by your husband? How can you be sorry? Did you even try and stop your husband from committing such acts against a noble family?” Joffrey circled around Sansa and stepped toward Jeyne. Jeyne was visibly shaking as the King approached her. He placed a hand on her shoulder before tracing the skin below her neck. He moved his fingers upward, placing a stray hair behind her ear. “You didn't even attempt to use your cunt to persuade him?” Joffrey traced down her pregnant body to grab at her mound. 

“My love!” Margaery stood from her position beside the throne to call out the King. Joffrey turned to look at her, narrowing his eyes at her. Margaery smiled and slowly stepped down the stone steps. “She is nothing more than a woman. We are not able to change a man's mind once it has been made. We are only humble servants of our husbands.” Sansa looked over her shoulder and shared a look with the future queen. Perhaps it was the fact that Jeyne was pregnant but whatever it was, gained some sympathy from Margaery. 

Sansa's head jerked when Joffrey laughed. It was a joyous laugh, one that Sansa noticed made Margaery's shoulder relax. She had been nervous what her outburst would cost her. Ever since his violent attack, she had been rather calm in her assertions toward her betrothed. However, it seemed Joffrey was amused by her deceleration to the point of enjoyment. He brought his hand to his mouth, tracing his lips. His long legs carried him toward her quickly. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and placed a rather long kiss on her cheek. Since Sansa was standing so close to the throne, she could hear when his lips removed themselves from Margaery's cheek. Even the mere sound of anything physical coming from Joffrey made her skin run cold. 

“Here is my bride, apparently the jealous sort!” Joffrey laughed again, causing a few members of the court to give a chuckle. Sansa felt tense and when she glanced at both Baelish and Arya, she could tell they felt the same way. However, the rest of the court seemed almost to enjoy the show because Joffrey's mood was vastly different compared to the last court session that had been held. It was also different because Jeyne was viewed as a traitor in their eyes. If Joffrey sentenced her to die, they would proclaim that she deserved such a fate. “Don't worry my dear, I could never want a woman such as her!” 

Again the crowed laughed, causing Sansa's head to tilt in shame. At one point, she would have thought the same and in many ways, she still did. However, the hurt that etched its way across Jeyne's face made Sansa's guilt become even more pronounced. If she didn't know that Joffrey would lash out at her, Sansa would have moved closer to the chained woman. 

“Be that as it may, Your Grace, your betrothed makes a fair point. She is nothing more than a useless woman. Convict her if you must but be done with it.” Tywin stated in a bored and disapproving tone. Tywin did not like the new way criminals were convicted. While he could not be considered a gentle man, Tywin would never sentence someone to death for his own amusement, political gain of course but never because he enjoyed watching someone die. “More pressing matters deserve your time.”

“I have a few more questions before I make my decision.” Joffrey stepped toward Sansa and placed his fingertips on her bare shoulders. Sansa had to force herself from revolting. He traced a line toward her throat and out of the corner of her eye, Sansa could see the smirk play on Joffrey's lips. “Lady Baelish, if I can recall, you were good friends with Lady Greyjoy during your childhood. Is that not correct?” 

“It is.” 

“Then why would such an old friend be involved in such a despicable act? I had to think on it but I remember you following Lady Baelish around when I was fostered at Winterfell. Was it revenge? Did you envy her good fortune?” Joffrey leaned down and kissed the top of Sansa's shoulder. Bile rose in her throat at the feeling of his lips. She was forcing herself to remain still and not flee away from him. She could only hope that the rest of the court could not see her agony. Her eyes drifted to her husband and she could see that his eyes were pitch black. He was furious but helpless all the same. He couldn't antagonize the King in a room full of people. One of his many skills was that his intelligence always won over his emotions. “Of course her fortune turned and she didn't get the crown she so hopelessly wanted.” 

“No. It wasn't like that, I swear.” Jeyne's frantic voice echoed. Her eyes shifted from Joffrey to Sansa. Ever since this interrogation started, Jeyne's eyes rarely left the King, hoping for mercy. However, she forced herself to fully focus on Sansa. “I never envied you, I promise. When you were engaged to King Joffrey, I was ecstatic for you and I felt the pain you were suffering when the engagement ended.” Sansa's shoulder's stiffened and she knew that Joffrey noticed. While she was in pain during that time, Jeyne misinterpreted her pain. “I loved him. Please understand that. I loved him but I didn't really know him. If I saw who he really was, I would have made better choices.” 

The air was thick in the room but only between the two woman. The rest of the court was whispering and she could feel the vibrating excitement of Joffrey beside her. Despite the distractions around her, she couldn't look away; Jeyne was capturing her vision. Jeyne had tears trailing down her cheeks and her hand was caressing her swollen stomach. Sansa wondered if things had been different, she could have been in her position. She could have easily married a monster and faced the possibility of bring his child into the world. 

“Well... That was illuminating.” Joffrey stated as he rolled on the balls of his feet. His true age showed then and he appeared to be nothing more than a boy who was given a sweet. “I think I have enough information gathered to make a decision.” He paused, letting the tension that he was feeding off of fester between Sansa and Jeyne. “I think that it would be best if I didn't make such a decision. The acts took place in the North and as Wardeness of the North, I think that it should be your call on what happens to Lady Greyjoy. Make your decision quickly Lady Baelish.” 

Sansa looked away from Jeyne and focused on Joffrey. This has been his game all along. He wanted to see what she would do but the question was, what would Joffrey do with such information. While he said that he would allow the choice to be hers, he could easily change his mind. 

“Please Sansa, please. Have mercy.” Sansa turned to Jeyne and Sansa knew what she wanted to do. She felt the guilt deep within her bones. The first time she took control of Jeyne's life, it had felt exhilarating. She gladly stabbed Jeyne in the back in order to achieve her own agenda but now it was different. Looking over at Joffrey again, she could see the darkness in his eyes and then she knew. She knew what he would do, what her decision had to be. She schooled her features and thought about Theon. She forced herself to stop picturing Jeyne as a person. She forced herself to let go of her guilt. Sansa could only hope that she was correct and that the risk she was about to take, didn't backfire on her.

“Bring me her head.” Sansa heard the stony malice in her voice. The whispers had stopped completely, shock ringing through the court. No one expected such cruelty from her because she didn't show that side of her to most of the court. Jeyne cried out in complete disbelief, never expecting such a betrayal. Joffrey was taken aback and almost angry. He was certain that she would want her old friend spared. He was gleefully looking forward to taking Jeyne's head and forcing Sansa to look at it but she snatched that away from him. He could either grant her wish but Jeyne's death wouldn’t be as satisfying. Or, he could allow her to live and force Sansa to live with the knowledge that Jeyne was still alive. 

“I could you know. If that is what you really wanted.” Joffrey asked, his voice losing that gleefulness that had been there previously. He moved away from Sansa and stepped down toward Jeyne, who was sobbing uncontrollably. She had her arms wrapped around her pregnant belly. Joffrey placed his hands on her shoulders and glared at Sansa. “I could have her bound, gagged and watch as one of my guards cuts her child from her stomach before I cut off her head. I could give you the body of the dead infant as well. An eye for an eye if you will. Theon took your mother and your brother, it would be only right for you to take his wife and son.” He paused but Sansa refused to blink. She wouldn't show any type of doubt or remorse for her decision. She wanted him to believe that she wanted Jeyne's head. “No. No, it won't do. It's far more barbaric than even I enjoy. Such justice may be suitable for the Dothraki but we are not savages.” He pulled away from Jeyne who stopped sobbing. Her eyes were wide as though she could not believe her ears. Joffrey moved back to his throne and sat down upon it. “She will remain a prisoner here until Theon is brought to the Capitol, which could be years.”

“Thank you, Your Grace!” 

“Take her away.” Joffrey waved his hand, not wanting to hear the groveling of the woman. His demeanor changed completely and he seemed almost bored. The Gold Cloaks who brought her from the dungeons took Jeyne by the arms and pulled her toward the door. She went with them willingly, completely at ease. The thought of a cell was more appealing than death to her. At least in a cell, her child would be able to be born. “I'm finished with you Lady Baelish.” She was being dismissed and she made her way toward her husband, in a daze. Baelish placed his hand on the small of her back, steering in her the same direction Jeyne had just been dragged from. 

As they walked, Arya linked her arm with he sister, knowing that Sansa was hardly holding herself together. Eyes of the court followed them and it felt similar to the walk she made with her husband when she was being presented to the King. They all judged her for one thing or another. At first many whispered, calling her a whore because they believed the lie that she willing allowed Joffrey to take her to bed. Other's felt pity when they recognized the truth. Now it seemed that they all were united in their judgment. Very few saw through her demand because many were not clever enough to recognize it.

They continued to walk and eventually the rest of the court faded away. Their whispers could no longer be heard and only the sounds of their boots echoed off the stones. She could feel herself shaking and the gentle squeezes from Arya and Baelish calmed her nerves only very little. Eventually, Baelish stopped and pulled her into his arms. Arya's hands rubbing her back. She was also angry but knew that Joffrey's touches sickened her sister. 

“That was a very brave thing you did back there.” Sansa's head snapped to see Varys standing a few paces away. He looked as he always did, with his head completely bald and his robes a beautiful shade of purple. He wore a compassionate look on his face but made no move to reach out to her. He understood that she needed her space and the only welcome affection would be from Baelish and Arya. “It must have been very difficult for you, to do such a thing. Even though the rest of the court does not see it that way.”

“I didn't want to her to die. Not really. I just had to make Joffrey play into my hand.” Sansa wrapped her arms around herself, feeling completely disgusted. All she wanted to do was order a bath to be drawn for her. “She will be cold down there, in that cell. If Joffrey caught me sending her supplies, he would have her executed before the night was over.” 

“I'll take care of it. She will be well cared for. At least as well as being locked away in a cell while pregnant with a child can provide.” 

“Thank you.” Baelish stated and Varys looked at him. That familiar tension between the old rivals resumed. Varys gave a small chuckle and Baelish smirked at him, although it wasn't as wide as it normally did. 

“I'm not doing it for you, old friend.” Varys turned to walk away but looked over his shoulder. “I like your wife far more than I like you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we see Sansa playing the game again, being calculating and making political moves against the throne. It is obviously taking a toll on her. Now the court is going to look at her differently and Jeyne is going to remain in a cell for the time being. Thoughts?


	65. Chapter 65

Chapter Sixty Five

The colors of the brothel always made Sansa feel welcomed. It was odd that such a place made her more comfortable than her home. While thinking of her father caused her pain, she couldn't help but remember how much disdain he had toward such establishments. Such places had always been something sinful and she had been made to look away when such pursuits were in progress. She now found it humorous that not only was she married to a man that owed several brothels but that she ran them by his side. 

Baelish spent most of his time with the financial aspects of the brothel now and making sure his customers were happy. Sansa was making sure that the girls and the boys in their employ were happy. If the workers were happy then the customers were happy. If the customers were happy, more gold flowed into the coffers. Sansa enjoyed the part she played, caring for the whores, however she refused to allow herself to develop any fond feelings for them. She cared for their needs but controlled them with an iron hand. 

They could come to her with any concerns they had and Sansa would do her best to provide them care but she could only do so much. If she felt that someone was trying to take advantage of her position or because they felt that she wasn't as strong willed at her husband, Sansa quickly put them in their place. At first some of them gave her trouble and Baelish made sure that never happened again. One of the girls had vanished completely. When she had asked Baelish what had happened to her, he only replied that she was a bad investment. 

Sansa strolled through the common area after handing one of the younger girls off to a patron who was known well enough at court. Ser Jacelyn Bywater was a member of the City Watch and recently came into a substantial sum of gold. He had done an odd job for her husband, sending a few letters for him that he didn't want falling into the wrong hands. The Bywaters had been plagued by the financial troubles of the Seven Kingdoms and Baelish needed someone discrete and desperate enough to hold their tongue. Jacelyn needed money but Sansa knew his silence would only keep for so long. Eventually he would drink too much and say the wrong thing to the wrong person. So, in order to keep him under control, Baelish made sure there were plenty of young girls for Jacelyn to have his fill of. Then in a month or two when Jacelyn would let his guard down, Baelish knew where he would find him and Jacelyn's body would be located outside the city in a unmarked grave somewhere. A letter would be given to his wife explaining his suicide, a welcome relief for her. 

The sound of sex could be heard all around her, a common occurrence in a brothel. It was a productive day. It was pouring in Kings Landing, something that rarely happened but when it did, men didn't want to be cooped up inside with their wives, so they ventured elsewhere in order to achieve pleasure that there would not be able to gain at home. The gold was flowing in and it put both Baelish and Sansa in a very pleasant mood. Baelish remained in his solar, going over the books while Sansa made sure that their patrons were kept satisfied. There were several guards posted around to keep the patrons in line, or that was the excuse Baelish had made for hiring them. However, Sansa knew better; there had been no guards before she started spending time there. Baelish wanted to guarantee that no patron mistook her for a whore. 

One of the newer girls, Emilia, came toward Sansa. Emilia couldn't be more than fifteen but she appeared so much younger. She was even shorter than Arya but had long, curly, light brown hair. Sansa had felt sorry for her when she came to work in the brothel after learning her story. Emilia had been under the care of her mother who ran a small stand of fruit. She had been one of the many mistresses of King Robert and Emilia's younger brother had been a bastard son of the late king. The young boy, no older than three, had been executed on King Joffrey’s orders. Emilia's mother committed suicide two days later. 

“Lady Baelish, there seems to be an issue.” Emilia stated, causing Sansa to come to a stop. Emilia was dressed nicely and modestly. She appealed to the men who desired the virginal look. She had been a virgin when she started working in the brothel and Baelish was able to sell her virtue for a plentiful amount of gold. Emilia caught on quickly to her trade and Baelish was rather pleased with her. “Our...guest seems to be inebriated again. He was with Esme and he started to cry. Cora and I had to pull Esme away from him in order to prevent her from blacking out. He was chocking her and he hasn't paid for such things.”

“He is my husband's problem. Not mine.” Lord Tyrion. He had become something of a pain to Sansa as of late. Baelish and her rarely argued but Tyrion caused tension between them. The whores were uncomfortable around Tyrion because he seemed to be a permanent guest in one of the upper scale brothels that Baelish owned and that was a rare occurrence. Sansa wanted him gone but understood if Baelish wanted him near. However, her frustration came from the fact that her husband refused to tell her why. Now, seeing the dwarf only reminded her that her husband was keeping something from her. 

“I know that, My Lady but I feel more comfortable coming to you.” Emilia admitted in a shy voice and Sansa saw intelligence behind those blue eyes. Emilia may be shy and timid but she was far from stupid, which is why she was very talented at her profession; she knew people and knew which ones to avoid. “He scares me.”

“As he should. My husband isn't a good man, nor am I a good woman, remember that if you ever feel like crossing us. I'll go deal with Lord Tyrion but I want you to go and get my husband.” Emilia looked down at her feet and nodded. She had been hoping to avoid Baelish but knew that she was walking on thin ice for avoiding him and going straight to Sansa. Sansa began to retreat toward a stairway on the other side of the room that led to the chamber Lord Tyrion had been occupying. Once she was halfway up the spiraling stairway, she looked over the railing, calling to Emilia who looked up. “My husband only bites when I ask him to. Tell him I sent for him and you will be fine.” With that the girl scurried off. 

Sansa finished climbing the stairway and made her way past several pleasure rooms. The sounds coming from behind those closed doors would make any man believe that those they paid were enjoying themselves. She traveled down the red velvet halls toward a fine oak door. This chamber had been used for special guests such as the Prince of Dorne but Tyrion had taken up residence for the past few weeks, thus taking it out of commission. She pushed open the doors making the elegant chamber come into view. 

There was a gorgeous four-poster bed on the far left side of the room with the sheets pulled down and the satin pillows in disarray. Clothes lined the floor as did several empty goblets and plates. The chamber smelled of a mixture of sex, wine and stale bread. There was a wooden desk stationed under a window that had an open bottle of wine on it. A chair was located beside it and Tyrion was seated in it. He had a golden goblet in his hand and a bored look upon his face. His pants here around his ankles and Cora was on her knees with her head in his laps. The distinct sound of sucking reached Sansa’s ears. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms before clearing her throat. Cora jumped to her feet and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. 

“You're dismissed Cora.” The whore nodded before leaving the room, adjusting her green dress as she went. Sansa laughed at the dwarf as he reached down and began to pull up his trousers. After getting a good look at him, Sansa couldn't help but be impressed with what she saw. She had never considered what lay beneath his trousers but it surprised her how well endowed he was. “You're scaring my girls. I would hate for them to be uncomfortable because a drunk is invading their home.”

“They're whores. They are paid to be uncomfortable.” Tyrion slurred and Sansa pushed away from the doorway. She walked over to the table and poured the wine into a goblet. She sat down on the chair that was on the other side of the table. She brought the goblet to her lips and rolled her eyes at Tyrion's response. “If they were not uncomfortable they would not be doing their job correctly and drunks invade their home often...more than just their home!” 

“I can't send you away because you are a guest of my husband’s but I would appreciate it if you showed some gratitude. You are welcome here Tyrion because we know that you are not welcome in the Red Keep until the King's wedding.” Tyrion looked down. While he had not been formally banished from the Red Keep, it was common knowledge that the King did not welcome him there. Even if he were welcome, being at the Red Keep would be extremely painful for him, to live day after day in the place where the love of his life was murdered. Sansa knew that exact emotion even though she hid it well. “Esme will be alright but please, not more chocking my girls without paying for it first.” 

“She looked like Shae.” It was nothing more than a whisper but Sansa could see the desperation and loneliness in his eyes. It was true that Esme did resemble Shae slightly. Their build was different but the hair was the same shade and she had dark eyes but beyond that there were no similarities. In his drunken haze, any woman would remind him of Shae. Sansa took another sip of wine before reaching out to take his hand in hers. “I just, I can't get her out of my mind. I see her everywhere and it makes my heart hurt.” 

“I miss her too.” It wasn't until after her death that Sansa realized how much she enjoyed Shae's company. Ros was pleasant but she wasn't able to fill the void of Shae's daily companionship provided, and Ros didn't attempt to. Tyrion looked up at her with glazed eyes. It appeared as though a realization was occurring to him. “I enjoyed her conversation and she was one of the very few people I felt that I could trust here, even though she told me not to.” 

“I forgot what she meant to you.” Tyrion meant it. He had drowned himself in his own grief that he had forgotten that Shae's death affected more than just him. “She always spoke very highly of you, despite the crass and deceitful man you have as a husband. Her words, not mine. She really didn't like him, Lord Baelish I mean but she couldn't fault the devotion he has shown you. She waived it over my head actually. Proclaimed that the whoremonger was a better and kinder partner than I was. You have no idea how much those words haunt me now. I got her killed.” 

“No. Your nephew did that.” Sansa took a far larger sip than she had before. She reached up and poured herself another goblet. Varys had once told her that the relationship between Tyrion and Shae was not as peaceful as it had been in the beginning. “Your nephew has a list of sins that stretches beyond Shae's murder. He proclaims to be a supporter of justice but only when he chooses the crime. If the crimes suits him, he would be more than happy to protect the one who committed it.” 

“It seems that you have far more grievances with the King than I do, and my list is long.”

“He knows who killed my father and brother, yet he does nothing. He proclaims that Theon will be brought to justice for his crimes against my family but it is my husband who sends his men to actively find him. He beats his bride, tortures and maims anyone that suits his fancy. He takes what he wants just like he-” Sansa stopped herself and brought her hand to her throat. Tyrion sat down his goblet and looked at her.

“We all know what he did to you. There is nothing I can say to make it right. I knew he was a monster since he was a small child and when he took the throne both my father and I feared what he might do. I have never seen my father so powerless. Joffrey may be as stupid as he is sadistic but he knows the power he holds.” Tyrion leaned back, drinking his wine again. “I'm surprised Lord Baelish hasn't killed him for what he has done to you.” 

“He has thought about it.”

“As have I, but different reasons of course. I hope you don't find that offensive, my Lady.” He tipped his goblet toward her and she just shook her head before drinking her own. “When I think of Shae, I am filled with sorrow and agony. Then I remember what he did to her, what he made me watch and I am filled with blind rage. I regret my words to the King because I have been banished for them. He murders the love of my life and I am the one who is banished. I cannot wait for the day the he is dead.” 

“Be careful. That is treason.” Her tone was teasing but there was a bitterness to it. For a moment she let her guard down and forgot that his presence bothered her. “Telling that to the wrong person could cause you some serious trouble. It is no secret that you are here. I could run to Cersei now, tell her that you are plotting the death of her son and your head would be on a pike by morning.”

“But you won't, for many reasons. One would be because your husband would be very cross with you. But most importantly, you need me.” Sansa looked away from Tyrion and pursed your lips. “He hasn't told you has he? Interesting.” Tyrion took another large gulp. “It surprised me when the self-involved Petyr Baelish came back with a pretty wife with a powerful name behind her. Even more surprising that it was the ex fiance of my nephew. I thought he was using you but I was proven wrong. The way he looks at you, it was obvious that to get to him, they would have to go through you. The court might not have seen it and neither did my family but you are very much his equal. So why wouldn't he tell you his master plan.” 

“And why would he tell you?” She was allowing Tyrion to get the best of her. She knew that she needed to repress her emotions in order to gain better control over the conversation. Yet, she couldn't help the bitter taste in her mouth at the thought of Baelish confiding in someone other than herself, especially the dwarf. It seemed so unlike Baelish. 

“He hasn't. He has said nothing but has graciously opened up his doors and his whores’ legs for me, allowing me to rest comfortably during my banishment. All the while hating every tiny inch of me. Ever since that unfortunate incident with Joffrey attacking you, Lord Baelish has not been so kind to me. He hid it well of course, not being one to display his motives but I knew it was there. I just was far too busy running a Kingdom to care. Now I've lost everything and have become a pawn in Lord Baelish's game.” 

“So you are just going to sit back and allow my husband to control your fate? Doesn't seem very Lannister of you.” Tyrion was a power player in Kings Landing and to simply allow another to take control of his seem highly irregular to Sansa. “I thought Lannisters always paid their debts?” 

“They do. This Lannister just doesn't have anything left. My reason for living was shot with fifteen arrows and left to bleed out in my arms. That is your answer, your husband can do what he wants with me, I don't care anymore.” Tyrion drowned his last bit of wine before tossing his goblet onto the wooden table. He belched slightly and pressed his hand on his chest. “I just don't care.” 

“You know, if I was a jealous man, I would look upon this scene with a different perspective.” Sansa turned to see Baelish leaning up against the doorway. “My wife drinking with a man whose trousers are open, bearing himself, in a brothel no less.” Sansa grinned at him and held out her hand. Baelish pushed off the archway and strolled over to her. He leaned down and captured his lips with her's. “Hello Sweetling.” 

“You should know that I would never go to bed with a Lannister, or anyone else for that matter.” They both knew that she would remain faithful. The thought of another man touching her was revolting. Only Baelish's touch was welcome and wanted. Baelish smiled at her and gave her another kiss on the lips before moving to her forehead. 

“I should hope not. Any lover you would take I would have to kill.” His tone was teasing but he was deadly serious. If anyone else even dared to touch her, she knew that Baelish wouldn't hesitate to have them killed and he would be far too cleaver to get caught. She would know of course and she shivered at the thought as to what he would do to her if she ever stepped out of the marriage. “I would have him gagged and burned. It would be a very slow death.” Sansa grinned and pecked his lips again. 

“There is no reason to worry.” She matched his teasing manner with her lips curling. “I would hate for you to have blood on your hands.” Sansa linked her fingers with her husband’s and brought them to her lips. She slowly kissed each knuckle all the while never taking her eyes off him. Baelish's eyes grew darker and his lips curled. She could see the desire play out on his features. 

“The two of you are nauseating.” Tyrion chimed in, pouring himself another goblet full of wine. Sansa scowled, almost forgetting that the smaller man was there. She knew that if he had not interrupted, the two of them would have found themselves in the bed, something that had happened several times in the brothel. The whores knew that when their masters were busy, they would take their concerns to either Olyvar or Ros, if they were not attending to their duties up at the Red Keep. They had made sure that at least one of them was present in the brothel at all times. 

“You're always welcome to leave if we are bothering you.” Sansa smiled at him with a false sense of sincerity in her tone. She cocked her head to the side, her grin growing wider. Tyrion raised his goblet, toasting to the remark. “I'm sure you can find another bed somewhere else. There are not many but a few brothels that we don't own.” 

“Now now Sweetling, that is no way to treat our guest.” Baelish kissed the top of her head and Sansa narrowed her eyes at her husband, something he noticed. Neither of them liked to be corrected, even if it was by the other. “But my wife is correct, you are my guest and in order for you to continue to be so, you must respect this household. No more chocking my girls unless you are prepared to pay for it. I would hate to have to be rid of Esme. She makes us a good amount of gold.” His eyes were dark and meaningful. 

“As you wish my gracious host.” Tyrion slumped deeper into his wooden chair and drank his wine deeply. The bottle was almost empty but she knew that Baelish would have another sent up. She knew that her husband didn't enjoy the dwarf's company very much and it was easier when Tyrion drank himself to sleep. During the first couple of days, Baelish had made sure that one of his girls that didn't bring in a significant amount of gold stayed with him. It wasn't a gift even though she willing preformed for Tyrion, but it was as though she was on a suicide watch. While he was still sinking deep into depression, Baelish was no longer concerned for his welfare. “Your wish is my command.” 

“Shall we my dear?” Baelish held out his hand and Sansa took it happily. He pulled her up and wrapped his arm around the small of her waist. They made their way out of the chamber, closing the wooden door behind them. They strolled down the corridor, passing whores as they went. Sansa made eye contact with Cora who was pulling another woman, a Lady whose husband was influential in the Westerlands, behind a closed door. 

“We will have to send for the maester to make sure Esme is alright.” Baelish mused and Sansa nodded, thinking on the awkward man who treated her when Joffrey had attacked her. She would see him every few days. He would find himself at the brothel, every now and then when a customer became a bit to rough with the girls or boys. A week ago, a patron had gotten a bit carried away when he flogged one of the younger boys. “I would hate for her to be out of commission.” His mind was on the gold he might lose.

“It would solve the problem if Tyrion wasn't here.” Baelish paused and sighed. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. She knew that he was tired of hearing her complain about Tyrion. She knew that her attitude might be different if she knew what his plans were. Sansa lowered her voice and looked around, everyone was preoccupied with their pleasure to pay them any mind. “Just listen to me. I get that you have plans for him but it is risky keeping him here. King Joffrey may not know he is here at the moment but if he learns, he could question why you have been holding him. We can't risk our loyalty being questioned, not when the King already hates me.” 

“I don't want to argue about this again. Please. Just trust me. Alright?” Sansa sighed and nodded. He leaned in and kissed her head. It wasn't the end of their conversation but she knew that now was not the time to argue with him. She also just didn't have the energy to do so. “Thank you. All will be clear soon enough. I promise. I wouldn't withhold this from you if I didn't think it was important.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it has been awhile since we saw Tyrion. I have mentioned that he was spending his time at Baelish's brothel but never mentioned as to why. And Petyr is keeping secrets.......I am curious to see if any of you can guess what he might be plotting and what part Tyrion would play.


	66. Chapter 66

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Early Thanksgiving everyone!

Chapter Sixty Six

It was beautiful outside, the heat was not overbearing because of the soft breeze past through. Many people left the Red Keep to enjoy the weather. The heat was something that Sansa was still not used to, even after months of living in King's Landing. She found that she needed to be surrounded by water and Ros kept ice in the chambers in order for Sansa to cool down when she became overheated. Seeing that breeze made being outside far more bearable, Sansa didn't want to spend any time inside the castle walls. 

Arya was using the good weather to attend a seaside lesson with Syrio, leaving Sansa to her own devices. Margaery's injuries healed completely and she wanted to be as far away from Joffrey as possible. She made her excuses and decided to join Sansa for a stroll through the gardens. The two of them giggled and decided to simply enjoy the day. Sansa of course was still dressed in black seeing that it had only been a little over three weeks since the death of Robb and her father. Yet, the sympathetic looks died when she asked for Jeyne Greyjoy's head to be given to her.

Margaery of course saw through her ploy even if her betrothed did not. The future queen congratulated her on her skill in manipulating the King. It was a gamble that Margaery was unsure she would have been willing to take. While she came from a very ambitious family, Margaery had a gentle heart. When she was not toying with both of Cersei's sons, Margaery did an enormous amount of charity work in the city. She would read to orphans and donate food to the homeless. There were so many reason why the people loved her. If Sansa had become Queen, even with a better King than Joffrey, she would have never been able to put in that effort.

Yet, gameplay was not something the two discussed during their stroll. For a few moments, Sansa allowed herself to enjoy the company of another female her own age. She loved her sister dearly but it was pleasant to have female company who shared her interests. Margaery shared stories of Highgarden but never asked of Winterfell, knowing that it would bring back painful memories for her friend. Instead, she would ask teasing questions about her marriage and what it was like to take an “older” man to bed. Sansa would blush and tell her that she should not be so concerned with such things. It was clear that Margaery was far more experienced than she wanted Joffrey to believe and as long as she knew how to fake her virtue, Sansa found that she did not mind the lie in the slightest.

Sansa wouldn't say much; she wouldn’t delve into Baelish and what he was like when they were alone. Margaery only saw “Littlefinger” and the manipulating man that he showed the court. She could see that he was intelligent and very good at the game. When he had traveled to Highgarden in order to sort out the Reach's taxes, and to arrange the marriage between Joffrey and Margaery, she knew that her grandmother had taken an interest in him. Olenna did not trust him but understood that aligning herself with such a man was a risk. He could take the Tyrell family very far but if he betrayed them, it could cost them dearly. Olenna had originally said that it was far too risky, but Margaery's father only saw the throne and what it could bring their family.

Hearing that Baelish treated Sansa with such devotion was startling. It was something that Margaery just could not understand. She could not see Baelish as kind and generous. When she expressed these thoughts, Sansa gave her a wicked smile with an answer to match. Margaery would never be able to look at Baelish's lips again, knowing exactly where those lips had been.

“On top of your father's desk! Sansa! I'm scandalized!” Margaery exclaimed and she was genuinely shocked. Sansa threw her head back and let out a laugh. A blush took over her pale features and she could not believe that she divulged such a secret. Baelish wouldn't mind of course. He wasn't one to brag about their exploits but if they became the topic of conversation, he would simply wear a proud smirk on his lips while never saying a word.

“I can't believe I told you that!” Sansa laughed in embarrassment. Margaery giggled as they approached a tower. It was large and made of the same dusty pale red stone that the rest of the castle. It reminded Sansa of the broken tower Bran had been thrown from so many years before. It wasn't in ruins but many people didn't make use of it. There would be guards coming to and from it from time to time it was mainly vacant. It was one of the few towers located over the gardens and at the very top, the same maze in which Baelish had told Sansa about Lancel's letter could be seen. “You must promise never to mention that to a living soul! I was never able to look at that desk again without blushing and Petyr's eye would drift over to me every time we both were in the solar together. It's amazing my father never learned of it!”

“Yes. Of course. I'm sure he would have gotten rid of it had he learned that his daughter had been defiled on said desk!” Sansa looked down at her hands and gave a weak smile. For a moment it almost felt normal to speak of him, as though he would walk around the corner at any moment and she would have to avert her eyes out of embarrassment. But it only lasted a second and then truth would creep up on her again. The only comfort she allowed herself was the knowledge that her parents were once again together, even if it meant she would never see them again. Margaery took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “No matter what you did, he would have been- what is that?”

“What?” Sansa's head turned toward the direction that Margaery was pointing up at. At the very top of the tower a figure could be seen. The breeze caused the fabric of clothing to sway and it was clear that whomever was up there was on the other side of the rails. “You don't think that they are going to jump? Do you?” Margaery dropped Sansa's hand and rushed toward the wooden door of the tower.

Sansa quickly moved to follow. Margaery opened the door and flew up the spiral stairway with Sansa is quick pursuit. There were a few doorways that led to different parts of the tower but they aimed toward getting to the very top. Sansa could feel her heart beating and her breath was panting. She wasn't used to such exertion outside of the bedroom. Once they reached the top, Sansa looked around the stone chamber.

It was an alcove with an archway that opened in a similar fashion to a window. The view could be seen for miles, with the maze, the Red Keep and an outline of King's Landing all in sight. However, Sansa could only focus on the figure standing before her. It was a young woman with curly brown hair and a black dress flowing around her. Jeyne Westerling stood on the other side of the railing, looking out toward the maze.

“Jeyne? What are you doing?” Margaery stepped forward in a gentle manner. Her voice was soothing and Sansa wondered in the back of her mind if it was the tone she used when she would read to the orphans. It was a voice that could make anyone adore her and Sansa could see how quickly she was able to win the public over. Jeyne turned her head and looked at Margaery but it was only for a second. Her eyes fixed on Sansa, never leaving them. “Jeyne, why don't you grab my hand and come over the railing. We can talk about whatever is bothering you and I will see that you are helped.”

“Do you miss him?” The question wasn't directed toward Margaery but instead toward Sansa. Margaery looked over at her friend and Sansa stepped forward. She knew that she was asking about Robb. Ever since his death, Sansa never considered Jeyne in the slightest. Her mind was far too concerned with other matters, such as discovering who murdered her father and brother. She knew that Jeyne loved him too much to ever consider such an act.

“Everyday.”

“I dream of him. Every night I close my eyes and I can see him. He whispers to me and it just feels so real. When I wake up in the morning and can still feel the crease on the other side of the bed, as though he had slept there the night before. I reach out but the side is always cold and I can't smell him on the sheets. Then I realize that it was only a dream.” Her voice cracked and tears began to stream down her face. She looked out toward the maze and lingered on it. “Robb and I would spend hours in that maze. Laughing, talking, and making love. If you go in far enough, no one can find you and if you know your way out; it was the perfect place us. It was our home.”

“You really loved him, didn't you?” The question caused Jeyne's head to snap toward Sansa. Her eyes hardened and grew cold. There was loathing there but Sansa could never blame her. Sansa had been less than welcoming toward her in every interaction they had. Jeyne huffed in annoyance and her lips curled into a scowl.

“What do you know of love, Lady Baelish? Love is something that is far beyond you. Something you could never possibly understand. I meant what I said the night of Robb's wedding. You found your perfect match because the two of you are so cold hearted that you would ruin anyone else.” The truth of that statement hit Sansa like a hammer. It wasn't the concept of never loving anyone or the insult of being cold hearted but the fact that she knew that Jeyne was right. Sansa would have ruined anyone else she was forced to marry, just like Baelish ruined Lysa. Baelish and Sansa were made from the same cloth and thus perfect for one another. “I thought I had someone else to love. It was the only thing that kept me going these last few weeks but then I was wrong. My courses came this morning and the last part of Robb that I thought I had was gone.”

“You thought you were pregnant?” Margaery asked. Sansa didn’t say anything but realized that Jeyne didn’t know that the tea she had been given was moon tea. After drinking that, there was no chance that Robb’s bastard would be born. Part of Sansa regretted that now. If Robb had a child, despite the child’s birth or who the mother was, Sansa would have made sure that the child was well taken care of. Regret began to sink deep inside of her. 

“I’m ruined. No man will marry me now, not that I cared. I only wanted Robb. I thought that if I bore his child, bastard or no, I would love him no matter what because the child would be the only part of his father I had left. I was so sure that I was.” Jeyne moved her hand to her abdomen and stroked it gently, a movement Sansa knew that she must have done many times. “It was the only thing that kept me going. Especially after I learned my mother’s involvement.” 

Sansa’s heart stopped and the air seemed to have completely disappeared from her lungs. She had spent hours lying awake at night going over everyone she thought might have had a hand in the murders but was never able to find any sort of tangible proof. Sybell Westerling had been one of the top suspects because Robb had ruined her daughter and her plans for elevating her family’s name. Sensing that her dreams would have come crashing down around her, it would cause anyone to seek revenge. Sybell was not above that. 

“What do you mean your mother’s involvement?” The words came out in a hiss. Margaery looked at Sansa, knowing the pain and fury that was flowing through her. There was a pounding in her ears and Sansa could hardly focus on anything else. Her vision turned into a tunnel and the only person she saw was Jeyne. The ledge disappeared as did the view and Margaery. Nothing else mattered but the truth and she was going to do anything to make sure Jeyne told her everything, even if it meant pushing her off that ledge herself. “Tell me!” 

“Jaime Lannister won’t marry now. I gave him the perfect excuse to break off the engagement. My mother wasn’t worried at first but when Tywin agreed to allow Jaime out of the engagement, my mother got furious. Tywin couldn’t risk a child of mine not being a Lannister, so he is searching for another bride who is still a maiden.” Sansa didn’t care one bit about whether or not Jeyne married Jaime. That worry left her the moment Sansa found her brother murdered in his bed. What did it matter to Sansa if Jeyne ever married or not now? A relief that she supposed was foolish on her part. “My mother blamed Robb and wanted to him pay for it.”

“Are you saying it was your mother who murdered my brother and my father?” 

“Not directly but yes.” Jeyne looked down at the ground again. For a moment Sansa thought she was going to step off. Sansa almost lunged forward to prevent her from falling. “My family has been wrecked with the financial ruin of the Seven Kingdoms. It was one of the many reasons why she wanted my marriage to Jaime to be successful. With that being said, she didn’t have the money to hire a decent assassin. Instead she just bribed one of the guards. He was supposed to get in and then get out. Quick as possible. However,everything went wrong. Your father was never meant to be slain and I feel as though I am to blame for that. I’m sorry. I’m just so sorry.” 

“I don’t understand.” Sansa whispered. How could her father not have meant to be killed? She was certain that the hit was meant for her father and Robb alike. If Arya had been there that night, she would have ended up dead as well and the same went for Roslin. Then a small thought crept into Sansa’s mind. Arya’s chamber had been completely untouched. She had never stepped in the chamber that Roslin had used when she stopped sharing a bed with Robb but Sansa had a sinking feeling that her chambers would have been untouched as well. “How could my father not be a target?”

“My mother just wanted Robb gone, for no other reason than to seek revenge. However, your father got in the way. From what I understand he had been drinking and it made it easy for the guard to overtake him. Once Lord Stark was taken care of, the guard made his way…” Jeyne swallowed and closed her eyes. The tears were still silently falling. “Please don’t make me say any more. I don’t know if I can continue. I just can’t think of it. My mother had the man I loved killed. She might as well have killed me too.” 

“How do you know all of this?” Margaery asked. Sansa turned her head, forgetting that her friend had been standing there the whole time. The fury that was engulfing her had blocked everything else out. Yet, Margaery was still able to function with a clear head. It never occurred to Sansa how Jeyne might have learned all of this. Sybell was not one to share anything with her daughter let alone the plot that involved the death of the man she loved. 

“I overheard her speaking with Tywin Lannister. He had no idea of what her intentions were and when he learned of it, he was furious. Their yelling woke me and I climbed down the stairs to hear them arguing. That is how I learned of it.” It made sense, if Sansa thought on it. Tywin wouldn’t have resorted to a cheap assassin. If he wanted someone dead, he would have made sure that it was done properly; the expense would not have been an issue. “He must care for my mother or like her in his bed because he covered everything up. The guard who killed Robb was murdered. The servants were sold to Slavers Bay. Anyone who had any knowledge as to who might have killed him disappeared as though it never happened. The only thing my mother didn’t get was my engagement to Jaime again, something she is still bitter about.”  

“So Tywin willing covered everything up? He just brushed it under a rug as though nothing happened? Is that why he was so willing to give me the North?” Sansa asked. She had found it odd that the King so willingly handed over the position of Wardeness of the North as though it was a simple matter. Joffrey hated her and would happily withhold her birthright from her. He was the King and could do anything that he pleased. If he wanted Sansa to never see the North again, he could easily do so. However, if the Hand demanded the North be handed to Sansa in order to appease her from looking too far into the deaths of her family, perhaps the King could be persuaded. Sansa turned toward Margaery. “Did you know about this?” 

“Of course not! Joffrey doesn’t confide in me anymore!” The truth rang out and Sansa nodded. Ever since Joffrey felt that Margaery had stepped over her bonds as his betrothed, he had refrained from confiding in her as he had before. Margaery’s position was becoming useless if she couldn’t keep her hold over the King. They hoped it was temporary and Sansa had faith that she would ease her way back into his good graces.

“That is why Tywin covered everything up.” Jeyne stated and they turned back toward her. “Your wedding is fast approaching and will be here within weeks. He didn’t want the scandal to overshadow that any more than it already would. He needs the Tyrells and the Lannisters to form an alliance. He says that King’s Landing needs the support the Reach can provide. The Westerlands can only do so much.” 

“And you just know all of this?” Sansa snapped

“It was a very long conversation. I was hiding on those stairs for hours.” Sansa was sure that part of the reason she remained on those stairs for so long because she had been in a state of shock. Even now Sansa’s legs seemed frozen in place. She didn’t know how to process everything Jeyne had told her. Slowly the shock was wearing off and the reality of the truth began to register. “I just don’t know what to do anymore. I can’t think about seeing another day, knowing that Robb will not be there by my side and if I’m not going to have his child. I just can’t think of anything else.”

“Jeyne. I know it must be hard but would Robb want this for you?” Margaery asked her, slowly making her way closer to the ledge. Sansa saw that Margaery was hoping to convince Jeyne to step over that ledge but Sansa couldn’t bring herself to help her. It wasn’t that she wanted Jeyne dead, because in all honesty her emotions were more fixated on Sybell than Jeyne’s desperation. 

“I don’t know what Robb would want. He is dead! Gone! And I will never hear his voice again or smell him or simply talk to him!” She was shouting now and Sansa could tell that a crowd was gathering at the bottom of the tower. It appeared that others noticed someone at the top of the tower. Sansa moved toward the ledge but not to assist her. Instead she moved to see how far down the crowd way and she never realized how dangerously tall this tower was. Even Bran would have never attempted climbing such a tall structure. 

“I’m sure he wouldn’t want this.” The breeze was stronger at the top, pushing her hair away from her face. It caused a chill to flow over their skin. Sansa wrapped her arms around herself as she looked over to Margaery. The future queen held out her hand, offering Jeyne assistance. “Take my hand and we will discuss what Robb would want. You knew him better than any of his. You saw a side to him that no one else ever got to see. If you come over that ledge, you can tell me everything there was to know about Robb Stark.” 

“All I know is that he is gone.” Jeyne turned and looked toward Sansa. There was a moment of compassion that passed across her features that Sansa had never seen before. Every interaction the pair had, Jeyne had shown Sansa nothing but contempt, something Sansa couldn’t fault her for because she knew she deserved every moment of it. “In a perfect world, I would have made a good Lady of the North. I would have done anything it took to please him. I would have made the North my home. In a perfect world, love would conquer everything. But we don’t live in that world.”

“No we don’t.” 

“I'm sorry. For everything. I'll tell him you said....I don't know. Something profound.” 

“Jeyne!” Margaery called but Jeyne already had one foot off the ledge and it was as though time slowed to an agonizing pace. Her fingers, one by one, let go of the railing and began to fall from view. Both Margaery and Sansa quickly leaned over the railing but saw that Jeyne had already hit the ground. They could see the faint outline of the motionless corpse on the ground, blood streaming from it. Screams could be heard from the crowd below, shocked at who it was who had jumped. Yet, Sansa heard none of them. Her sight turned red and her nails dug deep into the railing. The only screams she wanted to hear were Sybell's but knew that she didn't deserve the mercy of death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.. Jeyne Westerling is dead. I'm curious at what you guys think and if you saw this coming. I'm sure some of you guessed Jeyne's mother was behind the murders. He also got more insight to how it all went down.
> 
> Plus, I wanted to hint at Sybell's motivations and how the debt of the seven kingdoms affected another family. She is desperate and now she can rise no higher than the Hand's mistress. 
> 
> Well, the plot thickens..


	67. Chapter 67

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to give a shout out to my beta Cris, who is awesome! Thanks for all your help on this!

Chapter Sixty Seven 

 

“What are you going to do?” Margaery asked her but Sansa didn't reply. She said nothing at all. The only sound in the corridor was the pounding of the heels on her boots. She was walking at a furious pace, pure rage pushing her forward and Margaery could hardly keep up with her. Her only thought was that she needed to find Baelish. If she could find her husband, he would be able to take care of this. She needed him to take care of this entire mess. She wanted Sybell to suffer and to feel that pain that would linger inside of Sansa's veins for the rest of her life. 

She pictured it clearly. The look of despair crossing that beautiful face. The only thing that kept Sansa's feet moving was that picture in her mind. It was a drive that she didn't have before. It was a purpose. Her mind was working in overdrive to craft the perfect plan. Each course would change because she felt that nothing was perfect enough. Nothing could match the pain Sybell has caused deep inside of her. If she could just lock Joffrey, Sybell and Theon together and watch them slowly burn, perhaps she would find some kind of peace.

Jeyne's words echoed in her mind, the confession she gave on behalf of her mother and of Tywin. Sansa knew that Tywin would have had not any direct influence over Robb and Ned's murders. He wouldn't have been so foolish. He would have made sure both Arya and Roslin were dead and for good measure, he would have had Sansa and Baelish's killed in their sleep as well. He would have covered all grounds. He was angry of course for Robb ruining Jeyne but it would be far easier to find another virgin bride for Jaime. Jeyne's ruined virtue wasn't enough for Tywin to have them all killed but in order to keep the peace, it was enough to cover the murders up. Despite the part Tywin played, she laid the deaths of Robb and Ned solely at Sybell's feet but, if she had to drag Tywin down in order to make her pay, Sansa would gladly do so. She would burn the entirety of Westeros to the ground and hear a thousand innocent screams to watch Sybell burn. 

Even as she pushed herself forward, Sansa knew that no matter what, blood and vengeance would not bring back her family. Even Jeyne knew that when she jumped off that ledge, forcing her life to end far earlier than it should have. Sansa wanted to feel guilt over her death but the only thing that could penetrate that angry plate of steel was the pain Sybell would feel from her daughter's death. Sybell created her own downfall and Sansa would make sure that she fell so far off of her pedestal that it broke her when she hit the ground. That is what she was going to do, even if it took a lifetime. She was going to break Sybell for everything she was and she was going to do it with a smile. 

“I'm going to destroy her.” Sansa replied and Margaery turned toward her. Her eyes traced over her friend and Sansa briefly wondered if she had offended the future queen. She knew she hadn't. While Margaery may have had a good heart, she had a political mind. She wasn't foolish to the on goings of court and she had gotten her own hands dirty in the past. However, she didn't have the driving need that Sansa did. “I am going to make her rue the day she uttered the command for Robb's and my father's head.”

“Remind me never to make you angry.” Margaery had hoped that her friend would crack something of a smile but nothing appeared on Sansa's lips. They were drawing near to the throne room where she was certain the small council meeting would be letting out. It was a meeting like any other, a meeting to plan the royal wedding. Something that Margaery almost found offensive that she was not welcomed to. However, details were not being planned, finances were. Olenna was there in order to contribute, unwillingly, to the wedding. 

Once they crossed into the throne room, Sansa saw that most of the small council had dissipated. Baelish was speaking with Olenna, whose lips were pursed in displeasure. Clearly she had given more gold than she had originally wanted to. Tywin was standing on either side of them, commenting where he needed. Olenna represented the Tyrells while Tywin was the Hand of the King and represented the royal family. Baelish was the Master of Coin and his presence was easily explained. However, Sansa couldn't fathom as to why Sybell was standing a ways back looking as though she was being guarded by Cersei. The only explanation Sansa could create in her mind was that Tywin didn't trust her and wanted to keep her close. 

Sansa saw red when her eyes landed on Sybell. Everything else fell away as she studied her features. They rested in perfect ease and there was no anger or pain in them. She felt nothing. There was no remorse lingering behind those cold eyes. There was no regret for the murders she orchestrated. Despite all of that, there was no grief that a mother who just lost a child would feel. The news hadn't reached her yet. Sansa found joy in that knowledge. She wanted to be the one who broke the news to her. She wanted to see that pain restrict when the realization overtook her. Sansa wanted to watch her fall to her knees and to hear her cry out in anguish. 

“Sansa.” Her husband's voice radiated through her and she broke her gaze away from Sybell. Baelish was standing in front of her with a concerned look on his face. He placed his hand on her shoulders and squeezed them. His grey-green eyes looked deeply inside of her and she could see his concern for her. “Are you alright? You're pale. What happened?” 

“Margaery?” The brunette rushed to her grandmother's side. The harsh women didn't embrace her but she appeared concerned. Sansa looked over at her and saw that Margaery allowed a few tears to stray, an award winning performance; one that Olenna saw through but it fooled the rest of the course. Sansa made a small note to send her a lavish gift for her wedding. Baelish however, kept his focus on his wife. 

“It was awful. I tried to talk her down but I couldn't. She just...” Margaery placed a hand over her mouth and gave a sob as more tears drenched her cheeks. Olenna had to suppress a smile and raised her eyebrow at Sansa. She could see the anger and fury playing on her face. She knew that her granddaughter was playacting and that the anger Sansa was feeling was genuine. Whatever the reason, Olenna knew it would be very interesting to her. 

“Sansa, Sweetling, talk to me.” She looked at him but then turned away. She moved out of his arms and slowly strolled toward Sybell. Cersei in all her self-importance had thought Sansa was coming toward her but when Sansa passed her, the Queen Regent gave slow and loathing looks. Several blows to her ego had come to her as of late. She had lost the grip of her son as well as well the loyalty of her family. As she strolled past Cersei, Sybell's face seemed confused. Sansa stood in front of her and studied her puzzled features. “Sansa....”

“Is there something I can do for you Lady Baelish?” Out of the corner of her eye, Sansa could see Tywin step closer but still staying a good distance away. Sybell seemed concerned and shifted against Sansa's penetrating gaze. Her eyes were cold and unsympathetic as she took in the person who was responsible for the grief she is consumed by. “Lady Baelish?”

“I just wanted offer my deepest condolences.” The words came out in a smooth tone with a dead calm behind it. Sansa tried to hide the malice that was burning in her throat. She wanted nothing more than to wrap her hands around her throat but knew that her words would have much more effect than violence. Sybell's calm features were replaced by confusion, each aging crinkle in her beautiful face moved with her confusion. Sansa refused to remove her ice blue eyes from those lines. She wanted to memorize every change in that face. She wanted to be able to close her eyes at night and relive that moment again. 

“Condolences? I'm afraid I don't understand your meaning Lady Baelish.” Sybell gave her a gentle smile and a meaningless laugh. She attempted to put on an unconcerned air but Sansa could see the worry behind those eyes. That concern brought a joy to her that old Sansa would have deemed to belong to a horrible person. Would old Sansa understand the motives this Sansa had? Would she have felt the same joy? 

“You don't know? You haven't been told? You don't know about Jeyne?” 

“Been told what?” Sybell narrowed her eyes slightly and Sansa had to withhold a smirk. She turned her head to be able to speak over her shoulder, but never took her eyes off of Sybell. “What about Jeyne? She is fine.” It was as though she was trying to convince herself rather than speak to Sansa. Her eyes were wide with fear and her fingers began to pick at each other. A nervous habit Sansa was going to have to make note of. 

“Lady Margaery?” Margaery stepped forward, leaving Olenna rooted in the same spot she had been standing. Baelish made his way forward, curious as to the game his wife was playing. While many did not know Sansa as well as he did, he could tell that she was toying with the older woman, just unsure as to why. 

“Lady Baelish and I were taking a stroll in the gardens when we noticed something was off with the tall tower by the maze. Someone on top of it, leaning forward off of the railing as though they were about to jump. We ran to the top and saw that it was Jeyne leaning off that ledge.” Sybell's arms went around herself as she helplessly looked at Margaery. “She spoke of nothing but Robb. Her love for him and how his loss drove her to it. I-we tried to talk her down but she was without reason. She jumped before we could stop her.” 

“No.” It was a whisper. Sybell was shaking her head in disbelief. Her face was hard as stone and Sansa couldn't look away. She was studying her every minuscule move and relishing in the pain she was obviously feeling. It felt like an odd justice for Sybell to be grieving this way. She knew that Robb would be disappointed and sickened that his sister was practically celebrating his lover's death but she couldn't help the emotions that coursed through her. “I don't believe you.” 

“I'm sure it comes as shock with you keeping her under lock and key. Although Jeyne was very talented at slipping her guards.” Sybell was still shaking her head in disbelief. Cersei placed her hands on her shoulders but Sybell shook them off. Cersei took personal offense and moved away from her, crossing her arms as she went. Tywin took a few steps forward but didn't come to her aid. Sansa wondered if Sybell overstepping her bounds made him distrust his mistress. 

“Jeyne wouldn't do such a thing.” Sansa gave her a gentle smile and reached out. She traced the top of her fingers over the fine fabric of Sybell's dress. She then placed her palm against her arm and gripped. Despite Sybell's protest, Sansa pulled her into her arms and into a tight embrace. Sybell attempted to pull away but Sansa refused to let go of her, eventually the older woman collapsed into her arms, letting out a heartbreaking sob.

“I understand the pain you are feeling. That feeling of your heart being ripped out of your chest and the pulsing of your blood in your ears. The sharp pain when you breath making it as though you would rather never breath again. When you close your eyes and you see their faces night after night, imagining how they died.” Sybell sobbed again. “But it will bring you comfort to know that she is with those she loves. She is with Robb again and even though neither of us supported their relationship, at least they are happy together.” 

Sybell stilled in her arms and Sansa pulled away. Her hands remained on her arms, rubbing her thumbs in a manner that was meant to be comforting. However, comfort was far from what she was trying to express. Her tone and mannerisms may have appeared to be comforting to outsiders, her eyes told a different story. Her eyes were cold and emotionless; Sybell couldn't look away from them and deep down, she knew that her secret had been told. She didn't know how, but Sansa knew the truth. 

“We have a common enemy now.” Sansa dropped her hands from her shoulders and gripped Sybell's hand tightly. Her fingernails dug into the palm of Sybell's hand. She dug so hard that she was certain there would be marks left over. “The reason Jeyne jumped was because she couldn't bear the thought of being without Robb. Whoever killed my brother and my father is also responsible for Jeyne's death. I put my faith in the throne and I know that they are trying to find who did this.”

Sansa dropped the older woman's hands. Sybell remained still and her face became impassive. Sansa gave her a heartwarming smile but it wasn't really meant for her. It was nothing more than a show, hoping that the rest of them didn't see the hatred in that smile. They turned a blind eye to Joffrey's psychotic nature and she hoped that they had grown so used to it that they wouldn't be able to see it in someone else. Sansa could feel that part of her that she had so long tried to keep hidden, leaking out. It was the part of her that had drawn Baelish in. 

“We will do everything we can to find who did this, for both of you Little Dove.” Cersei gave one of her false smiles. Cersei knew that Sybell had ordered the killings but still remained ignorant as to Sansa's knowledge, something Sansa wanted Cersei to keep believing. Manipulating Cersei was easy because of the naive view she held for the younger woman. Joffrey knew as well and that was the only reason she had been gifted with the North. Everything was clear to her now. “Don't worry.” 

“See Sybell. Everything will be okay now.” Sybell just looked at her as Sansa turned away from her shaking body. She moved down the steps before turning back to look at Sybell. “I'm sure they haven't moved Jeyne if you would like to see her.” After a moment she shook her head, appearing to change her mind. “On second thought, perhaps it would be best for you to wait until the servants have cleaned the blood off the stone. It wouldn't do for you to hold your daughter while covered in her own blood.” 

Despite what she said, Sansa wanted nothing more. She had to hold her own father while he died and had to gaze upon her brother’s long gone and cold body. She wanted Sybell to feel that pain but she knew that she would not be able to see it first hand. She would have to settle for rubbing salt into the wound deeper and deeper just to see that pain constrict across Sybell's face. When she turned away, she was met with Baelish's raised eyebrow and smirk on his lips. 

“I'm exhausted, will you take me back to our chambers?” Baelish nodded and held out his hand, which Sansa took gladly. She turned back once again to look upon Sybell. She kept her face as sympathetic as she possibly could, not for Sybell but for the few members who she needed to remain ignorant of her motives. She knew that Margaery would inform her grandmother of what truly occurred on top of that tower and Sansa hoped that she made her message clear enough that Sybell understood that she knew the truth. “Again, I'm sorry for your loss.” 

Baelish linked his arm with his wife's and they strolled out of the throne room. They could hear Sybell’s distraught cries echoing down the corridor. Sansa couldn't help the smirk that appeared on her lips. Baelish chuckled at her glee and brought her hand to his lips. They could still hear the cries as they drew farther and farther away. It wasn't until they were a good distance away before Baelish was able to speak. 

“While I always applaud the joy you take in the game, I'm confused as to what this move accomplished.” Baelish wasn't angry or worried about the consequences it might incur. He was more curious than anything else. He was always proud of her, no matter the choices she made. Despite all of that, her actions in the throne room took him by surprise. He wasn't expecting such hostility toward someone when there were far bigger enemies to fry. “Why exactly were you toying with her emotions so cruelly?” 

“She is the reason Robb and my father are dead. She hired an assassin to kill Robb, my father was just unfortunate accident.” The venom in her voice didn't take him by surprise but the news she presented did. He allowed the surprise to flow over his features. He was adept to hiding all of his emotions behind a steel mask but he trusted his wife enough to allow her to see behind that mask. 

“Are you certain?”

“Jeyne confessed everything before she jumped. She had Robb killed because of his affair with Jeyne. He ruined her and Jaime refused to take her as his bride, thus ruining all her planning. She jumped into Tywin's bed for nothing.” Sansa huffed through her nose. They made their way up the stone steps, hushing their voices as they went. “Jeyne claimed that Tywin had no part in the actual murders, knowing nothing until it was over. He covered everything up but I wonder if she was mistaken.”

“No.” Baelish shook his head. “If Tywin was behind this, we all would be dead, Arya, Roslin, you and myself. He wouldn't allow such loose ends to linger. However if he cleaned it up, he would make sure all ends were tied up without spilling more blood.” Sansa snorted and he gave her a pacified smile. “Not because he isn't bloodthirsty but he is practical. If he had us killed after the fact, the council would grow suspicious. Not to mention the unrest that would rise in the North. Revenge murders are not worth starting a civil war over. Instead, he presented the North and Winterfell to you despite Joffrey's protest.”

“Of course Joffrey wouldn't want me to succeed in my father's footsteps.” They couldn't prove his discontent with the thought of Sansa becoming Wardeness of the North, it was in the actions when she received the deed. There was no crowning as there had been when her father had followed her grandfather. It didn't come until King Robert had taken the throne. Beyond that, the time the deed had been given to her and the handwriting. It wasn't Joffrey's, of course not, but it wasn't his secretaries either. Baelish had seen enough of the King's secretaries’ handwriting to know when it was not. It was as though Joffrey was forced to sign the document. 

“This can be taken care of easily, you know.” Sansa pondered the thought but shook her head. While it was tempting to simply get rid of her, it wouldn't satisfy her. They reached their chambers and Baelish greeted the guards that were posted outside their door. He opened the door and allowed his wife to enter before himself. “If that is your decision, then I shall respect it. If you need something of me, then I will provide.” 

“Thank you.” 

The door closed and she leaned in, taking his lips with her’s. The moment of embrace didn't last long as there was a noise coming from up the stone stairs of their chambers. It was the sound of something falling onto the hardwood floor and the sound of cursing that followed. Sansa smirked and pushed away from her husband. She ran toward the door and forcefully opened it. The door led up a flight of stone steps that had not been used until Arya had moved into their chambers. 

Once she was up the stairs, Sansa knocked on the door and was granted entrance. She pushed the door open and revealed her sister sitting upon her bed. Arya was dressed head to toe in boys clothing and was drenched in sweat. She had just come from a lesson and was cleaning Needle. Needle was raised high in the air with a cloth in the other hand. A book was lying on the ground beside at bedside table. It appeared that it was the book that caused the loud noise.

Sansa made her way into the chamber. Baelish leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed. Arya looked between the two of them, clearly realizing that something was being plotted between them. Sansa smirked and Baelish raised his eyebrow. Arya rolled her eyes, wondering if her sister and brother-in-law knew how obnoxious their silent communication was to those on the outside of their marriage. 

“I was wondering if that offer was still on the table?” Sansa asked and Arya's brows knitted closer together. Sansa made her way toward her sister and sat down across from her. She reached out and took Needle from her hand, placing the sword on the bed beside her. It was obvious that the conversation they were to about to have would cause Arya some distress. It was best if Needle was not directly in her grasps. “I was wondering if you still had a name available?”

“I do.” Arya stated. Baelish smiled widely and closed the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we get to see a bitchy side to Sansa in this. I enjoyed writing her as she toyed with Sybell. Now I do want to let you know that this story line will be taking a small back seat (kind of) because Sansa wants to let Sybell suffer with her grief and the knowledge that the direct result of Robb's murder was her daughter's suicide. Also, she wants Sybell to get comfortable and to second guess herself, that maybe Sansa does not know the truth. Let her guard down before a move is made.
> 
> Thoughts?


	68. Chapter 68

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas everyone. This is your early Christmas gift and I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter Sixty Eight 

The lights flickered in King's Landing and the summer heat made for a beautiful evening. Even the distasteful smell was drawn out by the ocean breeze that drifted past the balcony. The lights in the windows that swayed to and from made Sansa realize how many souls were in King's Landing. She had rarely considered those who lived their day-to-day lives in the Capitol. The last time Sansa thought about those who lived simpler lives was long before Joffrey took her innocence. 

She had dreamed of what kind of queen she would make. She would have made the people love her but that all changed with Joffrey. When she fell into that shell, the rest of the world disappeared and the only thing was left was her misery. Even the families in the North became nothing more than names to her when they all had mattered once upon a time. Yet, all of that went away when she changed. Now she was filled with fury and anger. Despite all of that, for a few moments, Sansa felt a sense of peace overcome her. 

The day before she had filled with rage to the point that her vision had gone red. Her heart had pounded so forcefully she had thought that it would break her chest; but now she was calm. All her worries from the prior day had drifted away. Sybell, her father and brother, the game and revenge in general just seemed not to matter. Her focus changed from the moment she woke up and felt the movement. It almost brought tears to her eyes and made everything else seem so small. 

Arya was still angry, leaving their chambers early in the morning and not returning until the sun had set. She was drenched in sweat and completely exhausted, having overexerted herself in her lesson. Sansa spent the day, roaming the castle and putting on a show. The news of Jeyne's suicide had spread and many wanted to know first hand what had happened. Both she and Margaery became the center of attention while Sybell hid herself away, consumed by grief. Sansa however found that it was incredibly difficult to fake despair when for the first time in ages, she felt nothing but joy. The pain lingered of course but the anger from the day before seemed to slip away. 

She looked for Baelish but the mere glimpses she saw of her husband were not long enough for her to share the excitement she felt. Baelish was rushed and hassled; Jeyne's suicide caused whispers among the court because rumor of the betrothal between Jaime and Jeyne ending had not yet spread very far. Add the stress of the royal wedding and Baelish was working late hours. He was always home in time to spend a moment with Sansa but once this wedding was over, Sansa would feel better and more secure. 

Sansa leaned in the chair staring out into the center of King's Landing. She closed her eyes and just allowed herself to feel the ocean breeze wash over her. She knew that this bliss wouldn't last forever but she was going to enjoy it while she had the chance. She reached down and ran her fingers through Lady's hair, listening the contented whimper the direwolf gave. She heard the door of the chambers open and then close. Sansa opened her eyes and shifted in her seat. The balcony door was only ajar but she could see her husband move through the glass. He disappeared for a moment, Sansa assuming that he went to put his ledger and a few other work related things away before coming to greet her. She heard his footsteps and the balcony door open. She turned and gave him a radiant smile. 

Perhaps it was her joy induced haze but Baelish just seemed far more attractive than normal. His coat was made of light brown material while the outer layer was dark brown leather. As always, his coat was long and hung over his trousers. His mockingbird pin was placed on the high neck. His beard was perfectly trimmed and the grey in his hair was pronounced. Sansa held out her hand, bring his to her lips. Baelish moved away and placed a spare chair beside his wife. He was close enough that Sansa was able to scoot herself in order for her head to rest upon Baelish's shoulder. He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. 

“You appear to be pleased.” While she could not see it, Sansa knew that he was smirking. She giggled and nodded. Baelish moved his hands to run his fingers through her red hair. She closed her eyes and let herself grow comfortable. She allowed herself to enjoy being in her husband's arms. It was the only time she could really feel herself relax. “Where is Arya?”

“Asleep. Syrio exhausted her today. She is really enjoying her lessons. It gives her a drive and purpose. It also serves as a distraction for her. Thank you.” Sansa shifted and turned to face her husband. His eyes were shining even if he was obviously exhausted. Baelish didn't reply but instead leaned in and took her lips into his. They kissed for a few moments but it was not heated or passionate, there was a deeper meaning behind it. “How was your day?”

“Exhausting. You would think that a kingdom in debt would be more frugal but apparently not.” There was a hint of sarcasm behind his words. Sansa rolled her eyes at him. She knew very well that while he was attempting to bring the country out of the debt he created, in order to please the crown, keeping enough debt hanging over the King's head could be used toward his advantage. If there was enough debt, that meant some of the poorer subjects were suffering. If enough people suffered, they were more likely to revolt against the throne. Or would easily accept a new monarch. “You're beautiful.”

“Liar.”

“That I am. However with you, I aspire to be far more honest.” He gave her that wicked smirk again and she just shook her head. He was feeling playful and she couldn't help but to kiss those lips again. “Do you want to tell me what has caused you to be so happy today?” She shrugged her shoulders, as though she was undecided. “After the traumatic events of yesterday, one would think that you would be shocked and devastated.” 

“Perhaps I am just revealing in Sybell's pain.” Baelish said nothing but raised his eyebrow in question. He knew his wife and he knew that it was more than that. She could say anything she wanted and he would know if she was being honest with him. She knew that they wanted to share in each other's joy. There had been evenings when Baelish would come home after a long day of crunching numbers or keeping his whores, and he would appeared positively ecstatic. Those moments were born after a small scheme succeeded in the way he had hoped. She wanted to share her joy as well.

“It is more than that.” Sansa looked deeply at him and their eyes connected. She knew that she couldn't put it off anymore. This was the moment she was going to allow the secret she had been keeping to pass through her lips. Sansa raised her hand and placed it on his face. She traced his cheekbone. He brought his own hand to hers. He moved it and kissed her palm before kissing her knuckles, his eyes never leaving her's. 

“I'm with child.” The words came out easily and hung in the air. She had expected Baelish to freeze or show any type of reaction but there was nothing. His eyes never moved and they never lost their intensity. The silence unnerved her and she did the only thing that she could think of; she began to speak. “I felt him, or her, move today. I had known before today but it was just the confirmation. I knew that I had to tell you. I couldn't-” Baelish cut her off with his lips and placed his hands on both sides of her face. Their lips tangled together before Baelish broke away.

“I know.” He rested his forehead against hers. “I've known for awhile. You might be able to hide the truth from the outside world with fabric and beads but not me. You could never hide something like this from me. Especially when I see you naked almost nightly. I just wanted to wait for you to tell me.” He kissed her again before breaking away completely. He stood from his chair and held out his hand. “Come with me.” Sansa placed her hand in his, pulling her to his feet and into his arms. 

“Where are we going?” 

“You are the mother of my child. I am going to worship you.” Baelish reached down and scooped her up, causing her feet to dangle above the ground. Sansa squealed, surprised by the action. Baelish grinned, walking toward the door that stood ajar. Once they were through, he allowed it to remain open, focused on the woman in his arms. Lady remained on the balcony. He continued to carry her to their personal sleeping chambers. Once he reached the chambers and kicked the door shut behind him, Baelish sat Sansa down; turning her around so her back was pressed against his chest.

The dress that Sansa wore had clasps in the back, at her waist. They held elegant jewels that held the dark black dress on her body. Baelish slowly undid each clasp while his lips assaulted her neck. Sansa rolled her head on Baelish's shoulder. Once the last clasp was severed from its lock, the front of the dress fell forward and hung from her waist. Sansa's chest was still covered by her corset and her silver mockingbird pendant resting on top of her breast. 

Sansa turned in his arms and brought her hands to his chin, dragging his lips to hers. The kiss was gentle and Baelish didn't push to deepen it. Instead, his fingers lightly traced her skin, causing shivers to travel down her spine. Their eyes met once again and Baelish traveled up her arm until they reached the base of her neck. He looked down to see the pendant heaving on her breast and he leaned down to kiss the mockingbird. He then moved his lips from her chest to her forehead. 

“Sit on the bed.” Sansa gave him a small grin and sat down on the bed. Baelish took his own mockingbird pin off and placed it on his wife's vanity. He pulled the ties holding his coat together and pushed it off of his shoulders. He kicked his boots off and pulled the stockings off while Sansa eyed him. There was no wicked smirk or naughty gaze but instead just a look of pure longing. Once he was in nothing more than his tunic and breeches, he stepped forward toward her. 

Baelish leaned down in order to kiss her again. His hand traced the top of her breast before reaching for the laces of the corset. He slowly began to pull apart the laces that held the front of the corset together. The corset was normally fastened in the back but he didn't allow such detail to deter him. Sansa listened as the sound of ripping fabric as she felt the cool air hit her skin. Her lips were parted slightly and she gazed at him with hooded eyes. The corset was completely ruined when the last bit of the laces were torn apart. Baelish flung the corset across the room, landing somewhere out of sight. 

Baelish came and lowered himself in front of her. He didn't sit on his knees but reached down and took her ankles in his hand. He took her small boots off her feet and tossed them over his shoulder. He kissed each of her ankles before standing. Sansa pulled out of his grasp, scooted across the bed and into a sitting position. Baelish followed her, crawling on the bed. He moved his body over her until his forehead touched hers. Their breath mingled together until he kissed her. The kiss was light and lingering; their lips barely touching each other. 

“Lie down.” Sansa obeyed and laid down on her back. Baelish crawled up her body, his legs straddling one of hers, making them part slightly. He leaned down and kissed her forehead, allowing his lips to linger before trailing them downward. Sansa's eyes fluttered shut as his lips kissed each of her eyelids. He then kissed the bridge of her nose before biting lightly on the very tip. Sansa giggled at the feeling. 

“That tickles!” The laugh caused Baelish to chuckle. He placed a second nip on the top of her nose before placing his lips on either side of her cheeks. Sansa parted her lips and Baelish presses his together with hers. His tongue entered her mouth turning the kiss passionate. Once they were forced to break away, Baelish trailed his lips down the side of her jaw and onto her neck. He sucked on the base of her neck. Sansa moaned at the contact. His teeth nipped, until a small bruise started to form. 

Baelish's hands traveled down her sides. His left hand palmed her breast, causing her to arch into him. His thumb trailed over her nipple and Sansa whimpered loader. She placed her hands on his shoulders but allowed his attentions to focus fully on her. Soon, his lips moved downwards and latched onto her the breast that was not being held in his hand. Her breasts were fuller than before and Baelish gave them extra attention. 

Once the breast was fully suckled and nipped, Baelish pulled away to give the other his attention. He placed his lips around the nipple and sucked. Sansa weaved her hands through his black hair and gave it a slight tug. Baelish let go and stared up at her. The look in his grey-green eyes caused her heart to skip. He leaned down and placed a kiss between her breast. His lips trailed downward and stopped once he reached the small swell of her stomach. 

The bump was small, very small. When she was dressed and about the Red Keep, no one would be able to tell that she is with child. But here, in the dim candle light with her husband looming over her, it couldn’t be more apparent. Baelish leaned down and kissed her stomach. His hand traced over the bump several times before looking up toward his wife. When their eyes met, Sansa could see the raw emotion coursing through him. There was happiness, terror, excitement and a word that Sansa refused to acknowledge was laid out before her. Sansa had never seen him so vulnerable before, even on the day they married. Tears sprung to Sansa's eyes and they fell down the side of her cheeks.

Baelish kissed the bump again and closed his eyes. He relished in the moment for a time before breaking away. He traced the bump with his hand one last time before scooting down the bed. Baelish spread her legs wider, pushed the skirt that still hung on her waist upward but didn't go near the part she wanted him to. Instead he kissed the inside of her thighs, one at a time. He placed a kiss on top of her mound before looking up at her again. He gave her a wicked grin before devouring her. He licked the entire length of her slit. The contact made Sansa arch off of the bed and moan. Baelish was ruthless in his attack, never stopping to give her a breather. His tongue latched onto her nub and massaged it causing Sansa to scream his name. 

“Petyr!” Sansa reached down and grabbed his hair. She yanked at it but Baelish ignored the tugs, continuing his assault upon her person. He drew one of his fingers and slid up up her slit until it reached where his tongue was sucking on her nub. His finger brushed his tongue briefly before sliding it back down and teased her entrance. He pushed his finger inside of her before adding a second and then a third. He then began to pump his fingers in a furious manner. Sansa gripped the sheets as she felt that bundle of nerves build inside of her. She could hear the sounds that escaped her lips. Besides her husband's name, Sansa wasn't sure that the words that she was muttering were even words at all. It wasn't long before the world exploded around her and her toes curled; her back arching. 

Baelish withdrew from her and Sansa allowed her heart to settle. She lifted her head and saw Baelish standing on his knees. The look he had given her when he kissed her stomach was still there as his eyes looked over her. She gave him a warm smile and held out her hand. Baelish returned the smile but didn't take her hand. He, instead, pulled the tunic that he was still wearing over his head before sliding off the end of the bed. He stood there for a moment, never taking his eyes off of her and then pulled the laces that held his breeches together. They fell on the floor and Baelish slowly crawled back onto the bed. 

He made his way up her body and covered her completely. The feel of his naked body against hers caused a feeling of warm and comfort to engulf her. She always felt safe in his arms, because she knew that he would protect her, now more than ever. Baelish looked into her eyes, as deeply as he could. Sansa reached up and touched his face, sharing a moment of joy with him. This was a celebration for both of them. She leaned up and kissed his lips gently. As their lips mingled together, Baelish reached down and took himself in hand. He brought his throbbing member to trace her entrance before sinking into her; both hissed at the contact. 

Sansa laid there, Baelish's forehead against hers. They gazed at each other, both remaining still, simply enjoying the contact. Slowly, Baelish began to move his hips, pulling in and out of her at a tortuous pace. He never sped up, continuing with the same slow motion over and over again. His hands trailed her body with light touches. His lips would kiss hers and occasionally move to her neck. His chest would press against her breast and it caused a beautiful ache in them. Sansa would raise her hips in order to meet his. Her hand placed on the small of his back, helping her gain leverage when she moved her hips. 

The gentle sweet movements caused the emotions inside of her to race. The feel of his fingertips, lips and him being inside of her made the tears fall harder. Baelish continued to thrust inside her but he raised his hand to wipe them away. They were not tears of sorrow of pain for once, but of complete joy. He knew of course, not worrying that her tears were caused by something horrible. He had seen her cry to many tears because of the bloody events in their lives. But these tears were so much more and so much better. If Baelish was a different man, perhaps he would have shed a few tears of his own but he rarely knew how to cry anymore. 

The emotions he felt in that moment, the emotions he was expressing to her through his body were ones he didn't know how to feel. He would shut them down the moment the sunlight entered through their window. Sansa was the only one who he allowed himself to be vulnerable with. The rest of the world saw him as a cold and ruthless man. He was made of steel just as his wife was, even though his steel had a bit of rust on it. 

Baelish thrust against her, bringing his hand to her stomach. He knew that he couldn't feel the child but he wanted to be connected. The touch was light and tickling. Sansa arched against the touch of his hand. He soon traveled his hand southward and brought his finger to her nub. He twirled it in a circle causing Sansa to spasm again. She flew higher than she had before and it took her awhile to come back down, Baelish still thrusting inside of her.

She wasn't aware when he came. She didn't feel the seed spill inside of her because she was still engrossed in the bliss that he created. However, when her mind did clear, she looked at her husband again. Neither of them moved, simply holding each other. They didn't speak but allowed their lips to share small kisses. Their hands made small, invisible drawings on their saturated skin. Sansa moved her arms around his neck and buried her face into it. She inhaled deeply and pushed her body closer to him. Baelish revealed in the feeling of having her so close to him. 

Neither knew how long they held that position. When Baelish's weight became too much for Sansa to bear, he moved off of her, pulling his limp member out of her. Sansa whimpered at the loss of contact. Baelish laid down next to her and linked their hands together. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. He could never stop kissing her. He had just been all over her body and yet it would never be enough. Not after the gift she would be giving him. 

“We're going to be parents.” The words were foreign on his tongue. He had never thought of himself as a father before. When he was scheming to make the eldest Stark daughter his bride, long before he had even set eyes on her, he knew that children would follow. He never thought that the idea of Sansa bearing his child would bring him such joy and wonder... and such terror. His child was meant to a pawn to him, an heir to Harrenhal., someone to carry his name down after he made it great. Yet, that child meant more to him than he was even going to admit to himself, or to Sansa. She would know, of course, she always knew. She knew the unspoken words between them just as well as he did. 

“We are.” Sansa moved to lay her head on top of his chest. She could hear his heartbeat racing in his chest. She wasn't sure if it was because of the connection they just shared or if it was due to the fear of the child growing inside of her. She knew he was happy but it would be irrational if he weren’t terrified. She was scared as well. She had always dreamed of having children and yet, here it is and she was far more terrified than she had been before when it was nothing more than a daydream. “Are you okay with this?”

“More than okay.” Baelish kissed her head. “So much more than just okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it is no shock but Sansa is pregnant, which we all knew because I was rather obvious about it. If you are curious, Sansa is around 16 weeks pregnant, which is about the time the child can first be felt moving. Petyr of course can see the difference but most cant because they don't see her as intimately as he does. 
> 
> Well, I hope you enjoyed your Christmas gift.


	69. Chapter 69

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I wanted to post before the new year and I am hoping that everyone is enjoying their last day in 2015. I'm really happy that it is this chapter that I am able post today, but I will explain that move at the end! Happy Readings.

Chapter Sixty Nine 

 

The sunlight streaming in through the half opened curtains woke her the next morning. Her eyes fluttered open as she rolled on her back and stretched, luxuriating in the softness of the silk covers against her naked body. As consciousness slowly crept in, so did happiness, a joy she hadn’t felt in a very long time. 

Sansa rolled over and saw that the other side of the bed was empty. She reached out and felt the cool sheets, Baelish had left some time ago. It wasn't surprising, seeing that Baelish was not one to sleep the day away. He was an early riser and always would be. There was an envelope placed on the pillow and Sansa sat up in bed, bringing the sheet to cover her breasts and reached for the envelope. Sweetling was written in Baelish's hand, causing a warm smile to spread over her lips. 

Sweetling,

I had some business that needed to be taken care of this morning at the brothel. I thought about waking you but you looked far too beautiful to do so. I let you sleep, allowing you and my child to spend the morning resting. I had Ros set up a picnic for you and Arya in the courtyard. Spend the day relaxing and I will send for you. It is nothing to worry about but I will need you later.   
Enjoy your morning,  
Petyr. 

Her curiosity was peaked, wondering what her husband was up to. He made no mention the night before of needing to take care of business at the brothel, although their night did not involve conversation. She brought the letter to her heart, placing it beside the mockingbird that still hung around her neck and closed her eyes. She smiled, smelling the scent of her husband on the parchment. Sansa slid out of bed, allowing the cool breeze to touch her skin. She shivered and padded across the wooden floor, pulling open one of the wardrobes. She pulled out a simple dark blue dress. She was still in mourning but her mood didn't reflect the color black. 

It was a dress that didn't require a corset or assistance dressing herself. She slipped on her small clothes and a skirt overtop of them. She then stepped into her dress, pulling the long, flowing sleeves over her shoulders. The dress was fastened with silver buckles in the front. Once dressed, she sat down at her vanity and ran a brush through her hair. She pulled the red strands of her hair into a simple bun on the back of her head. She touched the necklace, deciding not to change the silver chain and pulled out a pair of silver earrings from the small wardrobe that held only her jewelry. 

Standing from the vanity, Sansa walked over to the full-length mirror to take in her appearance. It was a simple look but she was pleased with it. She was just happy to be out of the black clothing. Sansa turned to her side, flatting the dress slightly in order to see her form. She could spot the small bump but knew that unless someone was looking for it, no one would notice. With a small smile, Sansa moved away from the mirror in order to place her feet into a pair of slippers.

She left her chambers, crossing the main room and passed three tired direwolves as she went. She opened the wooden doorway and made her way up the small spiral staircase. Once she pushed open the doorway, Sansa could see her sister still sound asleep. It was unsurprising, as she had worked herself to exhaustion the day before. Arya was lying on her stomach with a pillow secured underneath her and her arm hanging off the side of the bed. Sansa made her way over to the bed and pulled the pillow out from underneath her. The jolt caused Arya to fall out of the bed with a yelp.

“Hey! What was that for?!” Arya cried as she hit the ground. She scowled at Sansa's laughter. The elder girl brought her hands to her lips. She reached out and held out her hand to her sister. Arya grabbed it and Sansa helped her off the floor. Arya stood in front of Sansa and crossed her arms, scowl still firm on her face. “Was that really necessary?” 

“You sleep like the dead. I knew that in order to wake you up, I would have resorted to that in the end so I just skipped ahead.” Sansa suppressed another giggle and Arya rolled her eyes. She moved past Sansa and went to her wardrobe to pull out a pair of breeches and a tunic. She pulled a pair of ratty and used boot from under her bed. “What are you doing?” 

“Getting ready for my lesson?” Arya looked at her sister as though she was insane. Ever since she had become their ward, Arya had thrown herself into her lessons completely. She would meet Syrio and she would follow his instructions perfectly. Arya could feel herself becoming better with the sword than she had been before. She wanted to perfect her craft until she was unbeatable. Vengeance and blood pushed her to become the best that she possibly could be. She wanted to cause those who harmed her family pain and suffering. In order to achieve that, she would have to push herself to achieve greatness. 

“Syrio can wait for a few hours. I want you to myself. There is a picnic in the courtyard waiting for us. Please?” Sansa stuck out her lower lip hoping to convince her sister to come with her. Arya saw that her sister was happy and didn't want to ruin her mood, despite her furious mood she has been in for the last several days due to the news of who was behind Robb and Ned's murder. Arya sighed and nodded her head. “Yay!” 

“I'm still wearing my breeches though. And I'm bringing needle!” 

“That's fine.” Sansa helped her sister dress quickly and pull her hair back away from her face. The two sisters left the chambers without delay, Nymeria, Greywind and Lady following behind them. Sansa all but dragged her to the courtyard at breaking speed. Arya laughed lightly at her sister's excitement as she was being pulled through the Red Keep. 

The reached the courtyard and it was clear that Baelish had outdone himself. A canopy was set up, shading an iron table and several seats. Ros was busying herself about, setting up a tea set, placing food on plates and patting several of the overly colorful pillows that were placed around. The direwolves moved past the sisters and settled themselves on the pillows. Arya stepped forward and looked around, impressed. Yet, Sansa stood back, forcing back tears. She knew exactly what this was and why it was there. He had done the same thing after she had married him. While he still would surprise her with gifts, they always escalated when she had given him something huge. She was giving him a child and Baelish was not a man of words, but a man of action. 

“I have no idea what you did to deserve this and I'm not sure if I want to know.” Arya stated in a sarcastic tone but Sansa ignored her. On one of the small plates, there was a card with Lady Baelish written on it. That name made her smile because it was something her husband rarely called her. Sansa and Sweetling were the names he called her most but Lady Baelish was something he saved for special occasions. She picked up the card and flipped it open. 

Lady Baelish,

This cannot compare to the gift you have given me but I hope that you enjoy it nonetheless. 

Forever yours,

Lord Baelish 

She smiled lightly and looked up to see her sister rolling her eyes. No matter how much she griped about the affection Baelish and Sansa showed each other while they were alone, she enjoyed seeing her sister happy. Despite the pain and misery that they both have felt since coming to King's Landing, Baelish was someone Sansa had to keep from falling into the depression Arya had witness plague her sister for years. 

The two sisters sat down around the iron table while Ros placed tea in front on each of them. When Sansa brought the tea to her lips, she could taste the distinct flavor of lemon. Sansa looked around the sweets that were placed on the plates, all her favorite foods and drinks. Arya appeared to have noticed the same thing because she snickered and looked at her sister.

“What on earth did you do to warrant such special treatment!?” While she knew that Baelish enjoyed spoiling her sister and that he was never one to attempt anything halfway, this exceeded anything she might have thought possible from him. It wasn't unusual that Sansa would appear with a new dress or jewel that her husband had bought for her. Their father, when he was alive, would often refuse comment but would wear pursed lips when Sansa would show Baelish's latest gifts. It was clear that he thought Baelish was buying her for services rendered but Arya wasn’t fooled. She knew that the reason Baelish spoiled her sister was genuine affection. 

“I thought you didn't want to know.”

“Just tell me!” Arya stated in an exasperated tone as she reached for a few sweets. Sansa gave her a gentle smile. She had always intended to share her news with her but not so early into their picnic. She turned in her seat, watching Arya lick some of the lemon cake from her fingers, having not actually taken anything herself. It took a few moments before Arya realized that her sister was openly staring at her. “What?” 

“There is something I have to discuss with you.” Sansa stated as Ros placed a few sweets on a porcelain plate and sat it in front of Sansa. Baelish had given Ros strict instructions that Sansa was to eat as much as possible. It was a sweet order but Sansa hoped that it was not something that would continue throughout her entire pregnancy. Arya looked at her in confusion and dropped the lemon cake she was eating. 

“Is everything okay?” It was a nervous reaction but her thoughts leapt to the worst conclusion. Scenarios flashed through her mind. She had thought that perhaps Harrenhal was completed and they were relocating or that they were sending her to Riverrun to live with their uncle. Good news was not something she was used too and she had become accustom to waiting for the other shoe to drop. She fidgeted in her seat, waiting for Sansa to say something but it seemed that the older girl seemed unable to find the words she was looking for. “Sansa, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing is wrong.”

“Then why have you gone pale?” It seemed that she just could not find how she would approach the news that she was with child with her sister. The news was so easy to share with Baelish because she knew that he had already suspected. They had shared secret looks between one another, the truth lingering between them. However, she wasn't sure if her sister would be thrilled or not. Sansa knew that bringing a child into this world was dangerous and Arya was nothing but a pessimist. Despite how cold she had become, Sansa still had a strand of hope lingering inside of her. Arya was a blaze of passions and fire but there was no hope inside of her. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. We have faced far worse, I'm sure.”

“Nothing is wrong, I promise you.” Sansa reached out and took Arya's hand in her's. Sansa took a deep breath and exhaled. “Our family is going to get bigger. The reason for all of this splendor is because Petyr does not know how to express his happiness any other way. He and I, or well we are... you see the thing is..”

“Sansa you are rambling. Spit it out already.”

“I'm with child.” Everything went still, Sansa could even feel Ros pause behind her before continuing on with her work. Arya seemed to be completely frozen in her spot, eyes wide. She said nothing but tears welled in her eyes and leaked down her cheeks. After a second, Arya realized she had been crying and wiped away her tears. She leaned in and took her older sister in her arms. She buried her head into the crook of her neck. Sansa placed her hand on her back and rubbed it in small circles. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” It came out in a stuffy voice. Arya wasn't someone who cried. She was ruled by her emotions and it caused her to act irrationally at points but tears were not something that occurred often with her. She pulled away and Sansa could see the redness around her eyes and the puffiness of her cheeks. “We are not going to be the only ones left anymore. There is going to be another person with Stark blood.” 

“You are happy with this then?” 

“Yes. I'm so happy for you.” Arya's smile then grew wide and she squealed. She jumped from her seat and pulled Sansa to her feet. She wrapped her arms around her shoulders and spun Sansa in a circle. Arya would stare at her sister with a small smile on her lips. She knew that Sansa was finally getting something she had wanted for so long. Ever since she was a small child, Sansa always knew that her purpose in life was to marry well and give her husband children. It might have happened differently than she imagined but at least something she always dreamed of was coming true. “So I guess this explains the intense gift giving then.” 

“Yes. Well, when Petyr is happy, he likes to buy me things. I've told him a hundred times that it is not necessary but he does not listen.” Sansa giggled. It was no secret that she enjoyed every second of the attention Baelish gave her. They might be considered an unconventional couple but once she looked deeper, Arya could see how deep their connection ran. “I think he enjoys spending the money. Gods, I can't imagine how much he will spend on the baby.” 

“Your child is going to be beyond spoiled.” Arya teased, sipping at her tea again. Their joy and chatting continued for some time. They ate and drank the food Baelish had provided for them. They discussed the baby and how Baelish might be as a father. Sansa laughed and shook her head. It was a delightful morning and it easily blended into the early afternoon. It was a joyous day between the two of them and neither wanted it to end. However, it wasn't long before Olyvar was spotted making his way toward them. He didn't linger long, only enough to hand her a note before moving onward. 

For the third time that day, Sansa saw her husband's handwriting. This note however, didn't have sweet meanings behind the words. It was nothing more than a summons, which she was used to. It was one thing to him to leave her notes in their chambers or on a table reserved for only her, especially when it was under guard by a trusted servant, but not when it came to business. Arya peeked at the note, curious to see what her brother in law would have written. Sansa folded the note quickly and stood.

“Petyr needs me at the brothel. There is an issue.” Sansa looked over at Arya who nodded. Arya reached down and picked up Needle. Sansa watched as her sister ran off, in search for her dancing master, Nymeria following behind her. Sansa walked over to Ros and handed her the note from Baelish. “Burn it.” Ros nodded before Sansa left her in the canopy. As always, there was one of Baelish's guards not far away from her and she quickly indicated that she needed to have a carriage to take her into the city. Sansa made her way through the Red Keep, Lady on her trail. 

She waited by the back gates, in order to avoid notice, and it wasn't long before a black carriage pulled up. It driven by one of the stable boys that Baelish paid extremely well. The boy was a bastard and was the only income for himself and his mother. Baelish paid him well and thus the boy was silent, doing everything that he was told. Sansa gave the boy directions and climbed into the carriage, Lady behind her. Like always, the boy took her the back way, through the alleyways and never directly through the city. It took a bit longer than the direct route but there was less of a chance of her carriage being robbed, especially with her riding in a dull black carriage. If it were, Lady would tear their throats out. 

The carriage pulled up to the back entrance and Sansa waited for the boy to tap on the door, indicating that it was safe for her to exit. The tap came quickly and the boy opened the door, allowing Lady to jump out before Sansa. She entered the brothel and noticed that it was silent. There were no men about, not even the regulars. There were no high players or men flashing their gold. Instead the corridors were quiet, even the girls were sparse; none of them drawing attention to their assets. 

Sansa stepped inside and looked around to see Emilia sitting on a widow seal, looking out into the courtyard. Sansa could hear the laughter of children through the window. She walked over to the window seal and stood beside Emilia. She looked out into the courtyard and saw the children at play. Most were the children of the girls in Baelish's and her employ. They were careful to eliminate any pregnancy that could be born to the girls, unless those children could benefit Baelish and now Sansa, in anyway. Those children were bastards of some nobleman or rich lord. Either that lord did not want the family to know of his activities in the brothel or they wanted to make sure that the child was well cared for. Either way, more gold went into Baelish's pocket but he always made good on his word. Those children were well cared for; educated, clothed, fed and would never directly be put to work in the brothel. 

“Emilia, where is everyone? And my husband?” Emilia looked up, startled by her mistress's presence. Her brows furred in confusion as though Sansa should have been informed about something. Sansa thought back to the note her husband had left her and realized that the lack of patrons was due to the business he had to do this morning. 

“I thought you would have known why.” Sansa just shook her head and looked at the girl. Emilia sighed. “He just came in early this morning and ask the patrons to leave. He gave everyone the day off, only asking a few to stay behind in order to inform him when they arrived. He has been locked away in his solar ever since.” Emilia's voice was calm and almost sad. While the girl was dedicated to the life she was forced to live, it was clear that it was not the life she would have chosen. 

“Who is he with? Lord Tyrion?” 

“No. The Imp is still passed out from last night.” Emilia replied in a shy voice and Sansa nodded. She turned away from the girl and headed toward her husband's solar. Her husband would never close the brothel and lose thousands of gold dragons unless he had a perfectly good reason. The closer she drew toward his solar the more reasons she drew up in her mind as to why the brothel would be closed. The door to the solar was shut tight but Sansa could hear several voices behind the wooden door. 

She pressed her ear to the door and she could hear her husband speaking in hushed tone, pacifying someone who rebutted him in sharp tones. She turned the doorknob but it was locked. The sound of the turning knob must have caught their attention because the voices stopped speaking. She could hear the sharp sounds of the heels clicking against the stone. She heard the lock at the top of the door become unbolted and the creek of the hinges as the door opened. Sansa was bewildered at the sight of Margaery on the other side of the door. 

Margaery stepped aside and allowed Sansa to pass through the door and looked inside. Margaery latched the bolt again and brushed past Sansa, heading toward the window. The future queen sat on the ledge of the window, staring out into the city through the red curtains that were closed. The sun casted a glow through the thin curtains causing a ray of to shine on the beautifully engraved round table that was set up in the middle of the solar. Sansa's eyes traveled to the oak table and noticed an array of food prepared. Food and drink was not something that table was used for often; there was not a single piece of parchment in sight. No work had been done in hours; at least no work that could be record.

Sansa saw that a women's back was toward her and for a brief moment Sansa stood still. Olenna turned to face her and Sansa saw the severe look upon her face, such was her usual expression. However, it was obvious that Olenna was pleased, very pleased. Her eyes held a glint to them that was only present when she was about to have the last word. Across the desk sat her husband and the leer on his lips caused a shiver to reach her core. 

“Sweetling! I'm pleased that my note reached you in time.” Baelish stood and leaned over the desk. He placed his palms flat on the wooden desk, hunching his shoulders forward. His grey-green eyes met hers and she could see the calculation behind them just has he could read her unspoken question. “We are going to kill the King.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, that last part and that last line is what Boden was built off of. It was the first scene I imagined in my head when I started dreaming up this story. I wanted a story where Sansa was married to Baelish and they planned to kill the King together. The original outline was far more cannon but eventually it turned into this beast. I wanted to give Sansa more of a reason to kill Joffrey and I wanted it to fester in her for years. 
> 
> This is the scene that started it all, which is why I'm so happy that it is this chapter I'm posting on New Years Eve. I hope it is a great way to end a good year.


	70. Chapter 70

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome! I hope that the first chapter of the new year is welcome.

Chapter Seventy

Not a single moan could be heard; the brothel was silent for the first time in her memory. Not a single form of fortification could be found; not a single girl was on her knees and no man was bent over. The stone building seemed almost innocent, the lavish home of a wealthy court member. If anyone ever stepped for in such a quiet place to see it, one would think that it was a lavish home of someone extremely wealthy. Then again, the mockingbird stood proud on the door, telling everyone exactly what this building was.

The Mockingbird it was out of services but only for the day. The grey elderly man who knocked on the front door was turned away, forced to take his coins elsewhere. He was most displeased for this brothel was the best in King's Landing. They catered to all taste and desires. There were rumors that Lord Baelish, owner of such a fine establishment, could even find corpses for those who enjoyed their partners to be deceased. Children could be handed to grown adults at will and any other desire could be found, for a price. Yet, no one would find any pleasure until the sun rose again. The girls’ legs were closed for the day and nothing could change the master's mind. 

Something far more important than business was hatching in the very back of the brothel. The door was shut tight, keeping anyone who would be unwanted from overhearing their plans. While they might differ in opinions on how on their plans should be carried out, they all agreed on how it should end. It needed to end with the cold lifeless of the King.

Sansa stood in the solar with wide eyes, moving around from person to person. She looked over to Margaery who wore a solemn and conflicted look upon her face. Sansa recognized such a look because she had worn it before, the look of someone who did not have blood on their hands but knew that they were about to. Margaery didn't want to be Joffrey's wife, Sansa knew as much but she didn't want to become a murder either. Having the blood of a faceless girl on her hands, Sansa knew how many sleepless nights this might cause her; even if Joffrey was evil.

Sansa pulled her eyes away from her friend and rested them on Lady Olenna. Olenna appeared to be studying her husband who still had his eyes on Sansa. His smirk was wide and expressive. Olenna shook her head but she was as amused as she was irritated. Olenna was not someone who should be crossed but Baelish never seemed to take head to that. He did what he pleased even if it meant displeasing Olenna. It was clear to Sansa that Olenna had a particular idea in mind for how Joffrey should meet his end while Baelish had another.

Baelish stood from his seat and walked over to his befuddled looking wife. He placed his warm hands on the sides of her arms, rubbing them hoping to be comforting. He looked deeply into her eyes as though he was trying to see what her mind was thinking. Yet, Sansa was unable to fully process the words he had spoken when she stepped inside of the solar. She had always known that Joffrey would fall and that her husband and she would have a hand on it; but now it was handed to her, lying at her feet and fear crept up inside of her.

The death of one whore was nothing compare to the death of a King, even a false King. They could lose everything if their plans failed. Sansa could feel her heart beating out of her chest and she inhaled deeply. She latched her hands onto her husband's arms, digging her nails into his flesh but he never flinched. She wanted this more than anything but the consequences were so much bigger than they had been before. If this fell through, then perhaps her child would never be born and that thought terrified her. But, if this were successful then her child would never be raised in fear of a bloodthirsty king.

“What?” Her voice was horse. Baelish had been telling her that they needed Joffrey on the throne for a while longer before they were able to take action. She knew that Margaery had been flirting and seducing Tommen behind her betrothed's back because it was only a matter of time before Joffrey died; even if it was not Sansa who was behind the death. However, she had thought Margaery would become queen because of her marriage to Joffrey but now it appeared that Sansa was wrong. “Are you serious?”

“Committing regicide is not something most would find funny let alone joke about Lady Baelish.” Olenna's sharp voice. Sansa pulled her eyes from Baelish's to look around at Olenna. She moved to sit down at the table. She looked deeply at Olenna, refusing to allow her eyes to waiver. If she did, she knew that Olenna would see it as a sign of weakness. “Is this something you really want Lady Baelish? I know your husband is not above such heinous crimes but you are far better than him.”

“I feel as though I should be insulted.” Baelish stated in a mocking tone. Sansa didn't turn but she knew her husband well enough that she could feel his smirk from where she was sitting. Baelish stepped forward and placed his hands on the back of her chair. As if it was instinct, Sansa reached up and took his hand, feeling him squeeze hers. “But I can't help but to agree with you.”

“There are very few things we agree on but this is one of them.” Olenna snapped back, still gazing at Sansa. “However, she never answered my question.” Olenna leaned forward, bending as close as she could without completely moving from her seat. The turban on top of her head shifted slightly, causing the purple fabric to fall into her face. “Tell me girl, are you sure that this is something that you want?” 

At first the words would not come and Sansa continued to simply stare at Olenna, trying to find the right answer. 

“I've dreamt of it, a thousand times. Night after night I would close my eyes, only to watch the life leave his. I would wrap my hands around his throat, just has he had done to me and I would squeeze harder. Some would call that a nightmare but they are the most pleasant dreams I have.” Sansa huffed and shook her head, causing some of her red hair to be tossed to the side. “Joffrey took everything from me and I want to return that favor; so yes, I want this. I want to watch him die but more importantly, I want him to die knowing that I was the reason for his death. So yes, I want to kill the king.” Olenna was still for a moment and then a knowing smile crossed her lips. She leaned back in her wooden seat and placed her elbow on the table, her fingers tracing her lips.

“Well Lord Baelish, I must say your wife always surprises me. I didn’t realize that she was just as power hungry and blood thirsty as you.” Baelish chuckled and Sansa could feel the vibrations on the back of her chair. The light joking manner slowly caused the shock to fade away. While this was not what she expected to find when she stepped through the brothel’s doors, it was far more pleasant. She felt almost giddy at the prospect. The panic and nervousness was slipping away from her.

“Well, I am sort of fond of her.”

“I’m sure you are. Just look at the state of her.” She laughed lightly again but focused back on Sansa. Her eyes traveled downward but only rested on her stomach for a moment. As though it was instinct, Sansa placed her hand on the small bump. She knew that it could not be seen through her dress but it wouldn’t remain that way for much longer. Soon her child would grow and the entity of King’s Landing would know that she was expecting. “The timing is strange however. You may want this but will you be up to the challenge? Ordering someone’s death and actually participating are two very different beasts.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Her voice was light and she could feel her husband dig his nails into the wood of the chair. While they never spoke on the matter, beyond Arya, neither of them was going to announce their news. They both knew why. This child was a gift for both of them and neither was willing to share it with the outside world yet. They wanted to protect it for as long as possible because they were not fools. Any child they would have, would face difficult times ahead just because of the name it bore and the family associations. 

“Don’t play coy. I know a pregnant woman when I see one. I’ve birthed children, as useless as they were but I can still tell the signs.” Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Margaery turn slightly to look at her but Sansa never broke eye contact with Olenna. “It was bound to happen of course. Yet, the questions remains on whether you will be able to follow through, not if you want to. The last we would need is you backing out because you feel ill.”

“No matter how I feel, nothing will stop me from doing this.” The passion in her tone made Olenna trust Sansa’s conviction. However she would have her doubts until the deed was done. She had lived a long life and knew that it was foolish to put her faith into anyone fully. “You need not worry about me changing my mind.”

“I’m not concerned about you changing your mind. I’m concerned about your physical ability to do what needs to be done. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to you or your child.” Olenna countered and Sansa had not even considered that she would be putting her child in any sort of danger. A moment of guilt overtook her but she forced the emotion deep down inside of her.

“Sansa’s wellbeing is not a question. If she wants to be there when he dies, then she shall be but if you think that I will allow her to be alone with him, ever, no matter what his capacity might be, than you are a fool.” His tone was light but Sansa could hear the deadly seriousness behind it and it gave her comfort. It didn’t occur to her that she might have to be alone with Joffrey and the thought of Baelish being at her side was a relief. If something did go awry, Baelish would intervene before anything drastic happened to her. “No harm will come to her or my child and anyone who tries to do so will pay a deadly price.”

“Well, well, you are rather found of your young bride. Who would have believed that Lord Baelish thought highly of someone other than himself?” Sansa giggled, knowing that Olenna liked teasing her husband even though she really enjoyed him. While Olenna was rather rude to him, they both understood the unspoken agreement between them. Olenna rarely met someone, especially a man, who matched her intelligence. Baelish didn’t reply but Sansa could feel his hands loosen on the back of her chair. He relaxed ever so slightly. 

“What can I say? Marriage made me a changed man.” The response made Sansa laugh slightly harder than before. She couldn’t help it. She knew that Baelish did not change much from the man she had met nearly a year before but there were small changes. Before, Baelish would have never put anyone before himself, but Sansa changed that. Neither would speak on it of course; ignoring the emotions that ran deep inside of each of them but they knew that they were there. They might not be spoken with words, but the actions both had taken in order to please and protect the other spoke volumes. 

“Clearly.” 

“I’d hate to break up the festivities but I’d like to point out that we are discussing murdering a man!” Margaery huffed. She stood from the window seat and crossed her arms. Her eyes darted to each of their faces, disturbed that none of them appeared concerned with what they were planning on doing. Sansa realized then that while Margaery was a master manipulator when it came to those of the opposite sex, she didn’t have blood directly on her hands. She was forced to watch Joffrey as he murdered innocent girls and Margaery didn’t stop him, because she had no choice. However, she never directly caused their death. She knew Baelish had killed at least three people, if not more, during his lifetime and Sansa herself had signed the death warrant of one young girl. She wasn’t sure about Olenna but Sansa was willing to bet that the eldest Tyrell was no innocent in that regard. 

“You knew this was coming Margaery, long before this meeting.” Olenna told her in a calm but stern manner. It was obvious that the two of them had argued about this before. Sansa knew that Margaery hated Joffrey almost as much as she did but the thought of murder turned her stomach. Despite her worries and fears, Margaery would pull through, none of them doubted that. 

“I just thought…I didn’t realize that I would have to play a part in the actual murder.” The words slipped out as a whisper. Sansa looked at her and realized how young she really was; only a year or so older than herself. Margaery was no more than eighteen or nineteen years old; still a child in many ways. Sansa realized how young she was herself even though she felt so much older than a young girl who would be eighteen soon. “There is no other way, is there?” 

“Do you honestly believe that I would allow that monster to marry you?” Olenna proclaimed and Margaery looked down. She didn’t want to be married to Joffrey, not after everything that he has done to her. “All you have to do is lead him up to his chamber and let us take care of the rest.” Sansa’s eyebrows furred in confusion. She realized that this was going to be complicated with four people involved in the plot but if Margaery’s only part would be leading Joffrey to his chambers, did that mean that the King would die in his own bed? For Sansa, that seemed too kind of a death. 

“Can I speak with Margaery? Alone?” Sansa asked, looking at Olenna again. The older woman nodded and stood from her seat. Baelish placed his hand on her shoulder causing Sansa to look up at him. He gave her a questioning look. She stood and placed her lips on his, giving him a gentle kiss; conveying that she would be fine. Baelish let go of her and then held out his arm to Olenna, who looped her hand through his arm. 

“Tell me whoremonger, does this establishment serve anything other than wine? Surely your girls have to eat. Spreading ones legs is an exhausting business.” Olenna’s voice trailed away as Baelish showed her out of the solar. Sansa knew that Baelish would take her through the less used parts of the brothel even though no one was in the establishment. It would not be wise for Olenna to be seen in such company. Once Margaery and Sansa were alone, Sansa could see the other woman’s shoulder sag. 

Sansa stood from her chair and made her way around the table, toward Margaery. She could hear her boots hit the stone floor. The sound echoed off the stone walls, filling their ears because nothing else could be heard. Once she was by her side, Sansa reached out to Margaery and pulled her into her arms, allowing the other women to rest her head. Sansa wasn't used to comforting people but she tried her best, rubbing her friend's back, hoping that she was being soothing. 

“Has he hurt you again?” Sansa whispered, feeling Margaery still beneath her touch. She pushed her away and turned her back. It took everything Margaery had not to allow the tears to fall down her cheeks but she failed. Sansa could see her shoulders shake and she got her answer. Sansa stepped forward and placed her hands on her shoulders. “I'm so sorry. I never wanted that for you. Trust me. I never wanted any of this for you.” 

“No.” Margaery turned around and Sansa could see the water in her eyes. There was contempt and pain written fully on Margaery’s face. She shook her head, causing the brown curls to sway. “No. You don't understand. I went to his bed willingly.” Sansa's eyes widened in shock but Margaery continued with her confession. “I was losing him. He was being pushed further and further away from my control and I did the only thing I could possibly think of. He listened to me again, after, whispering sweet nothings to me.” 

“It won't last. He will be kind for a time but eventually he will turn back to the sadist that we both know.” Sansa pleaded. She couldn't judge Margaery for her choice because she knew that it was a difficult one to make. Sansa could never imagine having to be in such a position and Sansa wasn't sure if she would be able to sacrifice that part of herself. After knowing what it could be like, after everything Baelish had shown her that physical intimacy could be, she couldn't fathom giving herself to anyone else willingly. 

“Don't you get it? I want him dead, gone and burned!” The words were shouted and Margaery’s hands were stretched outward. Sansa stretched her hand toward Margaery, hoping to quiet her down. It would do nothing if someone overheard them. While those who worked in the brothel were loyal to Baelish because they were paid well, if someone wanted to information on Baelish and found a whore who was willing to betray him, they would just have to pay them a beautiful sum of gold. “He took something from me. I was no innocent or blushing virgin but I sold myself to him. I did what I had to do and I hate myself because of it.”

“We all do things we are ashamed of. Even me. Even my husband.”

“It was bad enough to deal with it but then my grandmother had the bright idea to use it against him. I went to her, tears running down my face and she promised me that she would take care of it. In the mean time she said to use it and I did. I went to Tommen, told him of the horror I experienced. He was so angry, wanted to call his brother outright then and there.” She laughed but it was humorless. “I convinced him not to.” Margaery started to walk around the room in a circle. Sansa was concerned, wondering if Margaery had completely lost her mind. “Look at me. The only woman in the Seven Kingdoms who can claim bedding both the King and his brother!” 

Margaery paused and completely fell apart. Sansa could tell that she was starting to turn into someone she hated. She was falling into a pit of despair and that was something Sansa could relate to. It was as though the moment Joffrey first ruined her was replaying in front of her. Margaery was collapsing into a heaping mess and Sansa stepped forward, wrapping her arms around her. She allowed her to cry and the only thing Sansa held her close.

“It's okay. Trust me. I know exactly how you feel.” Margaery pulled away from her and sat down upon the wooden chair that her grandmother had previously occupied. Sansa sat down on her knees and took her hands into hers. She looked up at her friend and hated to see the pain that lingered in her eyes. “When Joffrey raped me, I hated every inch of myself. I would scrub and scrub myself raw but I would never be clean enough. To this day I feel tainted and used. It is a part of me that I will have to live with till my dying day.” 

“So it never goes away?” 

“No. I'm sorry it doesn't.” Margaery closed her eyes tightly as though she was wishing her entire life had turned out differently. “Killing Joffrey won't make the despair you feel end but it will make it stop growing. You will be queen but with Tommen as your king. Olenna will push for the alliance to stay intact so you need not worry about that. I'm sure Tommen was far kinder to you than Joffrey was.” This caused a true laugh to escape Margaery’s lips. 

“He asked if he hurt me. He seemed so worried that he had.” Sansa smiled, picturing the younger boy coming down from the height of passion. He seemed so innocent and pure that he would not be into the more adventurous or sadistic ways of joining with a woman. Tommen was nothing like his brother. “I used him. He is so sweet and I used him.”

“We are playing a game Margaery and he is nothing more than a piece in that game. If we don't play, we die.” Margaery nodded, raising her hand to wipe the tears from her eyes. Sansa could see the composure seeping back into Margaery as she regained her normal facade. “Are you going to be okay? Can you do this?” Sansa echoed Olenna's questioning and Margaery nodded. “Good. Why don't you go and get your grandmother and my whoremonger of a husband.”

Margaery giggled and stood. She looked at Sansa and pulled her into an embrace. Sansa was taken off guard and patted her on the back. Margaery pulled away and slowly made her way toward the doorway, pausing for a moment to look over her shoulder; her long chocolate looks being tossed over her shoulder. Her eyes traveled down to her stomach and a smile graced her lips. 

“Congratulations, Lady Baelish.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that Margaery does not seem so OCC in this chapter. I found it odd that they all would be excited to do something so awful as killing someone, even if it was Joffrey. I felt that out of the four of them, Margaery would be the one who would have some nervousness with the idea. Despite the fact that she is very good at politics and manipulation, she never directly murdered someone and with her good heart, I felt that she would be upset at the idea.


	71. Chapter 71

Chapter Seventy-One 

The silk sheets were heaven against her skin. They were brand new, ordered weeks before, when Sansa expressed the desire to change the color scheme of their bedchamber. Baelish, always one to please his wife, had them shipped directly from Quath. Once Margaery and Olenna had left the brothel through the same back door reserved for men and women looking to hide their dirty secrets from court or their family, Baelish led Sansa back to the solar and with a wide grin brought out the large wrapped package, handing it to her. Once she pulled the silk out of the package, she dragged her husband back to the Red Keep and back to their personal chambers. As soon as they arrived, Sansa had Ros dress the bed and dismissed her, eager to make good use of them. 

Arya was with Syrio and would not be back until late in the evening, as was her custom, so Sansa knew that they would not be disturbed. They broke in the sheets most ferociously and most enjoyably. Once they were finished with each other, they relaxed in each other arms before, lounging with their naked bodies pressed together. 

Baelish reached out and traced his finger down Sansa's spine. She was propped up on her forearms with her legs stretched out behind her. She laughed at the light touch and enjoyed feeling Baelish's lips kiss her shoulder blade. The hair from his beard caused the skin to tickle and Sansa couldn't help but pull away slightly. She pushed him away in jest, causing a wide smile to grow on his lips. He placed his hands on her hips and flipped her over. Sansa's red hair sprawled over the silk pillows and the color caused her blue eyes to shine. 

He leaned down and nipped at her collarbone. She laughed because she could feel his teasing lips against her. His hands drifted down to her side and dug his nails into her skin. Sansa arched off the bed and squealed. She hit her husband a couple to time, lightly, hoping to get him to stop his assault. She kicked her legs but Baelish wouldn't relent at first. Eventually his fingers slowed and Sansa rested to catch her breath. While Sansa calmed down, Baelish leaned down and pressed a kiss to the small bump growing there. 

She propped herself up on her elbows watching her husband trace his hand over their child. Her teasing irritation slipped away as she watched him. She felt sentimental in that moment, seeing her husband so raw and vulnerable. Baelish rarely ever showed such an emotion, even to her. He was always so controlled in every aspect but when he looked down at her growing stomach, there was something more there; something Sansa wouldn't allow herself to say aloud. 

Since the moment she voiced that she was expecting his child the night before, a sort of peace had come over her; even when they were committing one of the most treacherous acts. She had thought that she would feel some sort of guilt and fear at the thought of actually planning a murder but in truth, it was exhilarating. It was as though she was one step closer to finally achieving one of her lifelong desires. Joffrey had crushed every other desire she ever really had and the main driving force she felt since Baelish came into her life was that of revenge. 

“Are you happy?” Baelish asked as he crawled up her side. He laid himself beside her and Sansa moved to rest her head on his chest. Baelish raised his hand to run his fingers through her hair, enjoying the close proximity of his wife. He couldn’t help but relish in the feel of her body being wrapped around hers. “You’ve made me so happy, and all I want is for you to be happy as well.” Sansa tilted her head upward in order to look into his eyes.

“With you, I can never be unhappy.” She reached up and placed her hand on his cheek, rubbing his cheekbones with her thumb. He turned slightly, kissing the palm of her hand. The feeling of his beard rubbing against the palm of her hand caused her to giggle again. Sansa could feel his grin against her hand. 

“Me too. You could ask me anything in this moment and I would tell you gladly.” He knew that once those words left his lips he had made a foolish mistake for Sansa grew a wicked grin. She pushed herself up and kissed Baelish’s lips. He responded but only slightly because he grew suspicious of her motives. “Okay, maybe not everything.”

“Tell me what you plan to do with Tyrion.” Sansa attempted to put on a sultry voice, hoping to seduce the information out of her husband. She took her pointer finger and trailed it down the scar on his chest. Once her finger reached his navel, he grabbed her wrist and raised his eyebrow, communicating that such tactics would not work. Sex could get her anything she wanted from him but not when he thought it could compromise her safety. 

“Not that Sweetling.” Sansa pouted, with her lip sticking out. He leaned forward and bit her lip to kiss her but she didn't respond to his advances. Instead she narrowed her eyes at him, clearly displeased. “Let's not fight Sansa. Not now, not when I'm so happy. Ask me anything you want but not that.” 

Sansa sighed and rolled her eyes at him, resigned. 

“Fine. If you must be so stubborn and bull headed.” She rested her head back against his chest and huffed. She could feel his chest vibrate as he laughed. She continued to trace circles on his chest, knowing that he enjoyed when she did such things to him. It was a common occurrence after they would ravage each other. Their marital relationship was either calm and silence once the storm had passed or expressing the deep emotions they never would voice aloud. “If you won't say anything about Tyrion, will you answer something else?” 

“Go on.” He stilled, as his voice grew concerned. Sansa shifted again, bouncing slightly as she went. She bit her lip as she went, placing her arms on his chest and resting her chin on her arms. Her eyes were bright and excited, anticipating his answer. Seeing her excitement and thirst for knowledge made Baelish realize that he wouldn't be able to deny her anything now. Anything she wanted to know, he would tell her because he didn't want to disappoint her one more time. 

“Why now? After all these months, why now? Why kill Joffrey now? What changed?” Baelish had been insistent that Joffrey remain King for a while longer; even though he never said how much longer it would be. He never told her why and she knew that the reason why was connected to Tyrion; even though Baelish never said as such. Sansa questioned why he would change his plans so suddenly and what would have caused the drastic change. Baelish smiled at her and raised his hand to touch her cheek. 

“Everything. Everything changed.” He leaned in and kissed her lips. He looked deep into her eyes and lingered there. “Margaery may think she is hiding the abuse Joffrey has caused her but Olenna is no fool. She knew exactly what Joffrey has done and does not want her favorite granddaughter tied to such a vial creature.” There was venom in his tone that she rarely heard when it came to Joffrey. She knew that he hated him with a burning passion because of what he had done to Sansa; however, Baelish was far more talented at hiding his emotions where that was concerned. 

“So this is because Olenna wants Joffrey dead?” 

“Partly.” Baelish couldn't help but smirk at Sansa. She knew that there was far more to his explanation because there was always something behind everything he said. “The first time Olenna and I discussed killing Joffrey was long before I met you. When I went to Highgarden to collect taxes from the Reach, I arranged the marriage between Joffrey and Margaery. Olenna as I said, is no fool, she knew exactly who Joffrey was, even if it was from rumors. The only way I could get her to agree to the arrangement was to promise that Margaery would be a widow not long after her marriage. Whether I meant to keep that promise is questionable. My decision was made when I met you. I knew that I would kill Joffrey if you couldn't do it yourself. I would give that to you, I just had to stall Olenna in order to make sure the time was right.” 

“Thank you.” It wasn't enough but it was the only thing she could think of saying. The thought that Baelish had been planning the end of Joffrey, long before her appearance in his life, gave her an odd sense of comfort, though she was not surprised. What touched her the most was the decision to keep his promise to Olenna and that his connection with her is what caused it. “But why now? What changed? What made you want to push forward the time-line?” 

“This.” Baelish reached down and touched the small bump. “I had suspected that you were with child. I saw and touched your body every day; I saw the changes but when you said the words aloud it sparked something in me. I can't explain it. I just knew that I needed to worship you. Then I awoke this morning and fear coursed through me.” He brought her hand to his lips, letting the kiss linger. “I thought of everything our child would face in this cold and cruel world. Anyone who threatens to harm our child, will suffer. I will never allow anything that happened to you, or to our children. Joffrey would use our child as a plaything. I don't want to give him the chance.” 

Hearing the conviction in his words brought forth a rush of affection for her husband. The motives and actions behind schemes made Sansa realize how much this child meant to him. She had known that he would adore their children because they would continue the legacy he worked tirelessly to build, however she was beginning to realize that it was far more than that. She knew that she was already attached to the small person growing inside of her but she didn't imagine that he could possibly feel the same way. Long ago, before she had even known Baelish, her mother had spoken to her about how her future husband may not feel the same endearment toward their children as she would. Her father was an anomaly in that regard.

Sansa could not have been more pleased to prove her mother wrong. Baelish would do anything to protect them, not because the children belong to him or were some abstract progeny but because he felt genuine devotion to them. They would be the best part of the Baelish legacy. She reached up and placed her hand on his face, her own remaining impassive. Desire surged through her as she stared into his grey-green eyes and she felt wetness pool between her legs.

She placed her hand on his chest and soon her right hand joined the left. She pushed him down farther into the silk sheets and straddled his waist. She pressed her now dripping slit against his length and felt him harden under her. His hands went to her hips and he bucked against her. He was surprised by her actions but was pleased by it. He could never resist her and seeing her longing for him made his own desire surge. 

Sansa lowered her lips to his throat and began to suck on his collarbone as she rotated her hips. Baelish groaned, arching forward as she bit and nipped at his skin. His nails dug deeper and deeper into her skin as his member slid the length of her slit. Sansa hissed as he brushed against her nub and she slid up, kissing his lips. 

Baelish trailed his fingers up the side of her stomach and palmed her tender breast. She moaned against his lips before tearing them away in order to breathe. Baelish latched onto her neck as his finger twisted her nipple. Sansa bit her lips, whimpering at his attentions. His other hand left her hip and began to circle her nub. His hips bucked again and she cried out his name.

“Petyr.” It came out as a breathless moan as his thumb worked faster against her. Baelish could feel her hot breath against his skin and hear her whimpers in his ear. She found a rhythm, moving against his thumb and still feeling his member sliding against her clit. Sansa could feel that familiar tingle building inside her stomach and it wasn't long before she felt herself burst. She dug her hands into his chest as she came down from her ecstasy, leaving crescent markings beside his long scar on his chest. 

Once she was fully recovered, Sansa pushed herself up on her knees. Baelish reached down and took himself in hand. She lifted herself and the aligned herself with his cock. Slowly, Sansa slid down onto him, taking him fully inside of her, hissing at the exquisite sensation. With hooded eyes, she locked onto her husband's grey-green ones. She reached out and linked their fingers together.

Sansa began to lift up slightly and than back down. It was a slow motion and her movements mesmerized Baelish. Her breasts would bounce slightly and seeing her face constrict as she began to pick up a faster pace made the sensation so much more potent. He would raise his hips to met her's as she rode him. It wasn't hard or fast but their eyes never broke away from each other. Baelish unlocked one of his hands from her fingers and slowly trailed his hand up her leg. Eventually he reached her core and circled her nub.

Sansa tossed her head back and shut her eyes, never stopping her movements. She allowed herself to be overcome with the sensation. Baelish rubbed her faster and faster until the sounds coming from her lips were not understandable. Sansa leaned back and grabbed hold of Baelish's ankles, causing him to hit new angles inside of her. The speed and the spots he was hitting triggered her orgasm unexpectedly, as his name ripped from the back of her throat. It took her a few moments before she was able to calm down. Once, she settled down from her high, she realized that her husband was still hard inside of her. 

She started squeezing her inner muscles, milking his cock for everything that she could. Baelish would hiss in delight whenever she did such things. Sansa smirked and continued teasing him, chuckling at his grunts and his attempts to buck against her. Baelish slapped her bottom and told her to behave with a smile. Sansa gave him a wicked grin and leaned down to kiss his lips. Baelish wrapped his arms around her back and flipped her over. 

The silk sheets fell cool on her back and she giggled at the sudden change of position. She spread her legs wide allowing her husband to have full control of her. Baelish started to move again, quickly and picking up pace as be went. He pounded into her harder and harder and Sansa, while enjoying the feel of him, allowed him to take his pleasure from her; she had already come twice and wouldn’t be greedy. She knew that he was getting close as his pace became frenzied. Soon, Baelish stilled above her and his face constricted. Sansa watched in fascination as he found his release. His eyes were closed and his mouth slacked open slightly. His breathing was ragged and once it slowed, he opened his eyes and looked down at Sansa. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. Despite his dazed state, he never allowed his weight to rest fully on her, in fear of harming her in some way. 

Baelish pushed himself off resuming his position on his side of the bed. Sansa sat up and moved so she was leaning over her husband. She kissed him lightly before resting her head on his chest again. Baelish began to run his fingers though her hair again, almost by reflex. She could still hear his heart racing and it made her smile to know that she could cause such a reaction from him. The fact that his heart raced for her was far more than she felt she deserved. 

She molded herself to his side and smiled in contentment. She moved her leg so that it hung over his waist and laying against him, just listening to his heart as it slowly began to beat at a normal pace. She waited for his breathing to even out and for him to drift off to sleep but it was taking just a bit longer than normal. 

“I have no idea what brought that on but I'm not complaining.” His voice was heavy with sleep and exhaustion. Sansa giggled and listened to him drift away. Sansa propped herself up on her elbow and looked down at him. She leaned down and kissed his lips. It was light and sweet. Once they broke apart, Baelish opened his hooded eyes and looked at her. “What came over you?” 

“Just hearing you talk about the baby. How much this child means to you and what you would do to protect him or her. You would do anything and seeing that devotion just made me want you. I can't explain it.” Baelish chuckled and reached up. He pushed a strand of hair away from her face and stuck it behind her ear. “This child really means the world to you.” 

“More than I could ever express.” 

“It means so much to me that you are protective of the baby. The idea of you holding our child, well, it just drives me wild.” She slowly moved to trace the scar on his chest. She could feel the wetness pooling between her legs again and she grind herself against him. Baelish chuckled again before taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. He kissed each of her knuckles before dropping it back down onto his chest.

“Sweetling, I admire your energy but I'm an old man and unfortunately I need a bit more time before I am able to have you again.” Sansa stuck out her lower lip to pout and Baelish just shook his head. He leaned down and took her lip between his teeth. He bit down lightly before fully kissing her mouth. Their lips mingled together before he broke away from her. “Don't pout, I'm sure I will ravage you again before the sun sets and we have to dress decently for Arya's sake.” She smiled at him and then pecked him on the lips again before moving to sit up. “Where are you going?”

“Well, if you are not going to entertain me, I'm going to feed your child.” Sansa untangled herself from her husband and sat up. She pulled herself out of bed and stood on the wooden floor. Baelish held himself up on the bed and watched his naked wife walk across the chamber. His head tilted as she bent down and picked up his coat. She put her arms though it and tied it together. It was rather big on her but not by much. It hung down around her ankles and Baelish couldn't help but notice that the silver mockingbird pin was still attached to the fabric. 

“I must say that looks far better on you than it does me.” That mischievous smirk was ever present and he couldn't help but look her up and down. Sansa attempted not to blush at his attentions but his indecent stares made it difficult. She knew her husband was not ready for her but the look of pure lust made her arousal pool between her legs. In order to keep her composure, Sansa turned away from him and continued to make her way out of the chamber. 

Their chamber was quiet as Sansa made her way into the main area, leaving Baelish behind. Lady was sprawled on the sofa while Greywind was fast asleep on the rug in the corner. Nymeria was absent meaning that Arya had not returned during their tryst. Sansa smiled at that because while it would not be the first time Arya had walked in on them, they prefer it didn't happen. While Arya seemed normal, Baelish had some issues looking Arya in the eye for a few days afterward. 

Sansa walked over to the table in the center of the chamber and grabbed an apple from the bowel. Soon she felt her husband's arms circle around her waist and Sansa leaned into him. He kissed her shoulder as she bit into the apple again. She turned in his arms but didn't wrap her arms around his shoulders; to busy eating the apple. She noticed that he had slipped on his trousers, perhaps concerned that Arya would return. Before her sister came to live with them, Baelish had no problem strolling around naked.

“I thought you were going to sleep.”

“We're having a baby. Sleeping can wait.” He whispered to her before taking a bite of her apple. Scorned, Sansa smacked him lightly but he seemed completely unaffected. He seemed far too happy to really mind her violent tendencies. 

“You haven't spent much time with babies have you Petyr?” Baelish shook her head and she laughed. “Babies cry an awful lot. Sleeping might be difficult to come by when the baby is here. Might want to sleep while we can.” 

“Maybe later.” Baelish leaned down and kissed her. “First we have to kill the king and then become parents. I find that it is a great to do list.” Sansa laughed but was silenced once again by Baelish's lips. Neither of them heard the door open nor the padding of a third direwolf entering their chambers. The door shut with a slam and a huff of annoyance broke them apart. By the door, Arya stood with her arms crossed and Needle hanging off of her belt.

“You already have one child on the way, keep that up, you might end up with twins.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! 
> 
> I just wanted to let you all know that I'm having a bit of writers block. My beta has about a good 11 chapters to edit so I will be able to update those. However, I'm taking a small hiatus to work on another story for another one of my fandom. Don't worry, you still will be getting chapters and hopefully by the time those 11 are posted, I will be back, if not before. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed some loving smut.


	72. Chapter 72

Chapter Seventy Two

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. 

Baelish attempted to keep him attention on the argument at hand but his frustration was taking over. He ran his fingertips over the wooden desk as his grey green eyes jumped between the two women, his other hand ruffling his greying hair in an attempt to focus, but still his mind wandered. It had been the same argument over and over for the last hour and nothing was being accomplished. If he was honest with himself, this argument spanned far longer than an hour; it had been in the making for weeks. Neither Cersei nor Olenna could come to an agreement on the wedding plans. He also found it strange that neither Margaery nor Joffrey were included in the plans. Sansa had been involved with their wedding even though their plans were far less extravagant. Then again, they did marry in the old way. Perhaps he was biased but he greatly favored his own wedding over this extravagant affair being planned.

What truly amazed Baelish was the need for everything that was going into this wedding? One wedding for Joffrey had already been planned but because of Cersei’s need to have her husband out of the way, the wedding had be stalled, pushed back a few months. The delay was something that favored both the Tyrells and Cersei because neither really wanted this union to move forward. Cersei hated Margaery and claimed that she knew how to manipulate her son. Baelish knew what her dislike truly stemmed from, Cersei had already lost complete control over her son and thought that Margaery would ruin any relationship she could claim they still had. Olenna knew what kind of monster Joffrey was and was taking action to prevent her granddaughter from becoming the victim of more abuse.

He thought back to the first wedding and sighed. He would be more than happy to continuously spend the throne’s gold, or lack thereof, because it was important that King’s Landing remained bankrupt for a tiny bit longer. While he was willing to pull some of the kingdoms out of debt, the capitol was not one of them. It was imperative to Baelish’s scheme that the citizens view toward the throne remain hostile and what better way to accomplish such a task than throw a lavish wedding, a second one (and then eventually a third) that the throne cannot afford while children on the streets go hungry. No better way to cause distrust.

Despite his planning, listening to the two of them haggle was tedious. Olenna didn’t want to pay since she thought it was that it is the royal family’s role to do so. Of course Baelish knew the real reason behind her words, why spend money on a wedding when the bride would turn into a widow rather quickly? Cersei on the other had insisted that the bride’s family should pay when in reality she was a step away from begging. Cersei didn’t want Margaery as her daughter in law but also knew that the throne could not afford to throw something so lavish. Perhaps the wedding wouldn’t be as lavish if the King didn’t demand it to be so. Joffrey was already hated throughout the kingdom that expecting such frivolity increased their fury.

Baelish’s mind went to Robb and Roslin’s wedding. While he wouldn’t say his thoughts aloud, he thought that the wedding was a waste. Neither of them wanted to be bound to the other and now Robb was dead at the hands of Sybell Westerling. In that moment, Baelish realized how exhausting King’s Landing was. He thought back to the early days of his relationship with Sansa and how easy his schemes fell into place in the North. While he knew that Sansa was not ready to set foot in Winterfell he longed to be away from this place. He wished that Harrenhal would be completed so he could whisk his wife and child away from this life. However, Baelish knew what type of man he was and he knew that he would never be able to fully give this life up, and neither could Sansa. Perhaps it was their impending parenthood that brought on such thoughts.

“It’s your son who is causing all this pomp and circumstance! My granddaughter would be just fine without this farce. Why should we pay for something that is normally paid for by the royal family?” Olenna snapped at Cersei, who for her part, was attempting to keep her features passive. Yet, Baelish could see the rage that was brewing under her perfect green eyes. When Baelish had first met Cersei all those years ago, he couldn’t help but agree that she was by far one of the most beautiful women in the entirety of the Seven Kingdoms; even more so than Catelyn, whom he was still madly in love with at the time. However, as time moved forward and he uncovered what her true character was, Baelish couldn’t look at her without seeing her incestuous ways. Her schemes and low regard for others was something he could live with; even her unhealthy diet of Dornish red wine but her fornication with her brother were not something Baelish found appealing. This thought came from the man who provided corpses for men to bed and happily sold virgins for a pretty price; there were some, not many, but some lines that even Baelish would not cross.

“Times have changed. We are in a recession. Surely you can understand that.” Cersei smiled, showing her perfect white teeth at Olenna. She was beautiful, but cunning she was not, despite the fact that she thought so. “Your granddaughter is to be my daughter in law and will be Queen. I would hope that you would want her wedding day to be extravagant.”

“The only reason Westeros is in a recession is because your late fat oaf of a husband didn’t know how to keep his trousers tied shut. Although, I must pay my respects to you in that regard. You ended that, to be sure but not fast enough. If he had continued to live, gods knows how far in debt we would be at this point.” Olenna threw Cersei her classic look of disdain. Baelish gave a small chuckle and Olenna's sharp eyes focused on Baelish. “And you're no better whoremonger, allowing the King to whore his Kingdom into debt!”

“I am nothing more than a humble servant. He wished for more gold, I made sure it appeared.” Baelish replied in a smug tone. Olenna grinned at him through tight lips and her eyes told him everything. Olenna knew that Baelish was behind bankrupting the Seven Kingdoms and he was sure that she figured it out long ago. Perhaps she knew before he even came to Highgarden. The Reach was prospering and Olenna had no issue with him because Baelish had not found fit to swindle their gold; nor had he needed to.

“And look at the good that did.” Baelish picked up his goblet and raised it towards Olenna. They shared a look that lasted only a second. That look held a secret that Cersei was not privy to. If she had been, there was no doubt in either of their minds that she would have them executed. A pit of fear settled in his stomach as Sansa's image flashed in his mind. If the scheme went south, he knew that she would face dire consequences; and either Cersei would make him watch as she was tortured and murdered or he would be long dead. “Very well, I will pay half and nothing more. I wouldn't want anyone to accuse the Tyrell's of not paying their fair share.”

With that, Olenna stood and turned on her heels and made her way to the door, her dress trailing behind her and her purple turban flawless, looking poised as ever. Cersei scowled after her, not being afraid to hide her distain now that Olenna's back was turned. Cersei was one to show her enemies one face while really expressing another. She was one who plotted a death while becoming their best friend. She was a dangerous friend to have and one that Baelish needed to keep close for the time being. Olenna closed the door behind her and Cersei slumped in her chair.

“Must she always have the last word?” Cersei hissed as she pushed herself out of the chair. Baelish sighed inwardly as Cersei did just as he had predicted; as she always did. She began to pace in front of his desk, shaking her head, causing her golden curls to sway. “I'm sure she was just like Margaery when she was younger, nothing more than a whore. That smirking whore from Highgarden is going to be my Joffrey's Queen! My son will have to grow old with...that.”

“Lady Margaery will make a very agreeable Queen. The people love her and if I might step out of turn for a moment, the throne needs all the support it can get.” Cersei paused and turned to look at him with displeasure on her features. He knew that there was a line that must not be crossed with Cersei and Baelish couldn't help but dance that line. She wouldn't harm him, at least not while she needed him.

“That is stepping out of turn.” Her voice was harsh and Baelish just smirked at her. She huffed and shook her head. “I should have motivated him more. Convinced him somehow. Robert was always so stubborn, you know, so focused on doing the exact opposite of what I wanted, so I used it to my advantage. If I pushed him harder then maybe, just maybe I wouldn't be in this mess.”

“Pushed him for what?” Baelish asked. This was a rare moment and he didn't want to waste it. Cersei may not realize it but she was revealing more about herself she intended to. She was opening up her mind to him as though she was a book begging to be read. She looked out his solar window and into the gardens but it appeared as though she really was reflecting on the past. Baelish knew that she wasn't feeling guilt for the role she played in King Robert's death.

“Sansa.” Baelish paused and glared at the Queen who was not even looking at him. “She would have been so easy to control; like a puppet. The kingdoms would have loved her and she would have turned a blind eye when it came to Joffrey's...habits. And I see her now, so strong and standing tall after everything she has suffered. She would have made the perfect Queen.” Baelish listened intently because he saw what was truly between her words. Sansa would have made the perfect queen because Cersei believed that she would be able to live vicariously through the younger woman. “But Robert was so angry with Ned and wasn't willing to push him. He said he wouldn't have a Stark marry his son.”

“While I agree with you that Sansa would have made a marvelous queen, I am rather partial to how the events played out. I rather enjoy having her as my wife.” Cersei turned at his voice and looked at him. It was clear to him that she had completely forgotten who she was speaking to. To her, he was Littlefinger; the whoremonger and Master of Coin. While she knew he was married to Sansa, she never really considered him as a husband. The word, husband, didn't hold much weight with her, seeing that her own husband had treated her horribly.

“Yes, I'm sure you are.” Cersei strolled toward him with a curious look on her face. Her arms were crossed and she stopped at his desk. Baelish simply leaned back, crossed his legs and linked his finger's together to form an arch. “I never did ask you, why her? She is so different from your first wife, besides sharing a bloodline. Lysa and then Sansa, the only conclusion I can draw is that she is the daughter of your beloved Catelyn.”

“It is no secret that I had once held Catelyn dear to my heart, a secret that my wife is well aware of but that affection ended long before I met Sansa. My decision to marry her has nothing to do with her mother nor our history together.” The words were honest and it appeared that Cersei believed him. “And I hope you are not insulted but what happens between my wife and myself is between us.”

“You are no Joffrey.” Whether Cersei meant it to be a compliment or not, Baelish took it as one. He could see that the Queen still thought the sun set upon her children, even Joffrey; even after he had beaten her and then imprisoned her. It seemed that nothing could break that mother's love, no matter what Joffrey had done. “She could have done so much better.”

“On that, we can always agree.” Before Cersei could reply, there was a knock on Baelish's solar door. Knowing that there are royal guards were stationed outside, Baelish stood from his chair and walked around the desk. He passed Cersei who he was certain had never opened a door on her own, ever. He gripped the brass handle and turned, revealing two guards who appeared to be completely on alert and between them was a nervous looking maester; who was gripping his leather bag tightly. “Ah! Yes, please do come in.” Baelish held out his hand and waved the maester forward. “Your highness may I introduce Maester Reedman.”

The maester bounced on the balls of his feet and gave the Queen an awkward wave. While the maester was completely comfortable looking after prostitutes and witnessing all sorts of lewd acts that came with his profession, seeing a fully dressed woman with a commanding aura about her made him feel tiny and awkward. Cersei looked him over with a disinterested look.

“Are you ill Lord Baelish? If you are I am certain Maester Pycelle wouldn't mind looking after you.” Cersei offered because Pycelle was her personal and the royal physician. The mere thought of someone using a maester that was not her own irritated her. Pycelle reported directly to her and would inform her if there was any type of interest with one of his patients. However, even if Pycelle didn't report to Cersei, Baelish would never trust him with such a delicate matter.

“No. I am perfectly fine. Maester Reedman is here to look after Sansa.” Cersei’s expression remained blank but Baelish could see her mind working furiously behind those green eyes. He knew that the Queen would work endlessly to discover why the Master of Coin would hire someone outside the Red Keep to look after his precious wife. It would be a far easier outcome to just give her enough information for her not to poke her way through his dealings. There were many things that he would not want her to find; the plot to murder her son was only the beginning. “My wife is with child. While Pycelle is a very capable maester, I find that he would make Sansa uncomfortable. During this time, I want her to be as comfortable as possible. Maester Reedman has several midwives in his employee and I plan on using them. Being in that predicament yourself in the past, I’m sure you understand.”

“Of course.” It was common knowledge that Cersei had used midwives during her pregnancies and not Pycelle. The only redeeming quality that Cersei had was her love for her children and she could relate to anyone who either was or would soon become a mother. She also seemed pacified and would leave the matter alone. She would not dig any further into the matter. She may inform her son, the King, of Sansa’s pregnancy but he would learn of it soon enough. Either way, he would have to make sure Lady was with Sansa at all times. He knew that she liked to ignore that rule at times but he might have to be insistent with it. “Well, give her my congratulations. If she has any questions that need answering, seeing that her mother is no longer able to give her such guidance, she can feel free to seek me out.”

Baelish gave her a smile and agreed to pass on the message. Cersei nodded to the maester and took her leave, sweeping her long red gown behind her. Baelish watched as she strolled down the corridor, her loyal guards following her in complete obedience. Once she was out of sight, Baelish closed to door with a snap, bolting it tightly at the top; not wanting anyone to disturb them. He turned to look at the maester, who for his part seemed completely undisturbed that he neglected to inform the Queen of his true nature in his solar; or at least one of the reasons. 

“The Queen looks oddly similar to one of the girl’s in your employ. Even by the way they carry themselves.” The maester replied, cocking to his head to the side as though he was engrossed in an interesting fact. Baelish looked at the younger man and raised his eyebrow at him in questions, giving him a wordless answer. The maester’s eyes grew wide with recognition and understanding. “Oh! OH! I see. I guess some men would have that fantasy.” 

“If there is any kind of fantasy, there is a man out there and possibly some women who would enjoy it.” Baelish replied with a smirk. One of the many reasons he employed the maester was because he was oblivious to many things when it came to carnal pleasures. He never had to be concerned that the maester would use his girls while attending to their injuries. If the maester wanted a night with one of his girls, Baelish would be happy to accommodate him, for a price. “Now I must ask for discretion. Anything you heard in this room is not to pass your lips, is that understood.”

“Of course and may I offer my congratulations?” The maester gave Baelish a small, welcoming smile and his eyes shined with happiness and honesty. Baelish had the man pinned completely, knowing that the man would never speak against him because he was far too intelligent to do so, oblivious but intelligent. He was also intelligent enough to keep out of the high court’s affairs and politics. He would never speak on anything he saw or heard, not out of loyalty but because he never noticed what would happen right in front of him because he was far too engrossed in his work. 

“Yes. Thank you. Sansa and I are very pleased. You of course will care for her during the pregnancy? Especially since I told the Queen you will be. You have cared for her in the past and I would trust you to do so again.” Baelish gave him a pointed look conveying that he really didn’t have the choice in the matter. The maester gave him a wide smile as though he was honored to do so. 

“Of course! I would be delighted.” 

“Perfect.” Baelish moved away from the center of the room and made his way toward his desk. He sat down comfortably in his chair, crossing his legs and rested his elbows on the arms of the chair. The maester followed, with his ever-peppy jaunt in his step. He took the seat that had previously been occupied by Olenna as he set the leather bag that always accompanied him down on the floor. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees and folded his hands together as he looked at Baelish intently. “However, that is not the reason I summoned you to the Red Keep.” 

“No. It is not.” The maester reached down toward his bag and unclasped it. He reached inside and Baelish could hear the rattling of several bottles and instruments inside. After a moment, the maester took a small bottle, no bigger than his ring finger and placed in the center of the desk; Essence of Nightshade. The liquid was pink in color but he knew that once it hit wine, the deep redness would mask any color or taste the liquid would produce. “A drop of this will help you relax. Two will cause drowsiness. Three you will sleep through the night, peacefully. Four, will cause you to slip into a coma while any more than that can be fatal. I would advise taking no more than three drops.”  

“Perfect.” Baelish knew that Essence of Nightshade was easy to come by, which was one reason why he picked it. However, he could not have gotten it from Pycelle. If he did, Cersei would be alerted immediately. While she may think nothing of Baelish needing the poison for his own use, it may cause suspicion at a later time. 

“Lord Baelish, may I ask if you have trouble sleeping?”

“No. I don’t.”

“I see.” The maester paused, debating if he should continue. After a second of silent contemplation, he deciding it would be best to do so. “I would advise that if your wife is with child then she should not take it, even if she is in need of sleep. I never administer this to children because they are smaller and the poison acts far more quickly in their system and is far more deadly, even small doses. If a pregnant woman takes it, there is a chance she will lose the child. Moon tea is not the only herbal remedy to rid oneself of a child.” 

“It is not for myself or my wife. That is all you need to know.” His tone was final and the maester nodded, knowing not to push the subject any further. That was something Baelish enjoyed about the maester; he was intelligent but not only in the knowledgeable sense, he was wise as well. He knew when to ask questions and when not to. Having his mind at ease, the maester smiled and bid his farewells. He stood from the chair and collected his leather bag. He crossed the solar and then stopped before opening the door. 

“I don't know what you intend to do with the nightshade nor to I want to know. However, I feel that I would not be doing my duty if I did not ask you to refrain from using it.” He wasn't prying nor was he actively preventing from seeing out his plans. He would be a fool to do so because the majority of his income came from Baelish's brothel. “If I asked you not to use it, would I be successful?”

“No.” 

“I didn't think so.” The maester gave him a mournful smile. He raised his hand and ran it through his copper red hair. “Well then, I would hate to see anything happening to you so my lips are sealed. I know nothing of you purchasing Essence of Nightshade. I'm sure I will see you soon to tend to one of your employees. Let me know when you want me and one of the midwives to meet with Lady Baelish. Have a good evening Lord Baelish.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, some of you may be wondering if Joffrey will die the same way as in the Purple Wedding. However, that won't be the case......


	73. Chapter 73

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Everyone! Here is another chapter and it comes with a warning. The subject might be distressing to some.

Chapter Seventy Three

It was a hollow feeling, the emotion only death left behind. There was no making sense of it and no way to accept it. It would linger for years to come, eating away at the soul. It would become dormant after a while, only surfacing at the most inconspicuous times. Her mind would wonder onto something else and then suddenly, she would remember. She would lower herself to the ground, staring into the nothingness but her mind would retell the entire story, from start to finish. Some would try and pull her from the grasps of her despair but none would succeed. She would just sit there, a useless mess, remembering how she failed the most precious thing she ever created. 

The screams were horrid of course, echoing through the long corridor. The blood still lingered on the sheets but the agony had only started to subside. The figure in the center of the bed simply lay there. Her shoulders shook with misery as her hand ran down to her now empty stomach. The child that once grew there was gone and long dead. The cries of a childless mother could be heard, creaking through the cracks. The child was the one thing that kept her going in the world and now everything she had worked for was gone. 

She curled herself up into a ball, refusing to be comforted. She was trying so hard to hold the grief off that if she closed her eyes then perhaps she would still be with child. However, every few moment the reality would hit her and a new sound of tortuous moans would escape her lips. Her long matted hair covered her, hiding her face from being seen; terrified that if she allowed someone to glimpse her features then she would be forced back into the terrible thing she called reality. It was far easier to live in a fantasy for a tiny moment longer. 

The hair masked her still flowing tears. Her cheeks held the stains of the tears she had already cried. She pulled herself together tighter and the pain in her abdomen didn't even make her wince. The physical pain was nothing compared to the emotional trauma she was attempting to heal herself through. The sharp sting meant nothing to her. The maester wanted to examine her but she refused to be touched. The thought of human contact repulsed her; largely because she felt as though she didn't deserve the contact of other humans, because she was a monster; just like her husband. 

She blamed herself for the death of the child. It was the outcome of her own doing. If she had just listened and done as she was told, perhaps she never would have ended up this way. She would have loved her child, but how could she love something if it never existed? It would have been easier and far more proper if she had listened to the lessons she was raised on. However, she had been a fool; believing in knights and fairytales. She thought that the good people would get their happy endings while the villains perished. Yet, her entire world crumbled around her while one of her childhood friends turned into a villain herself. 

Everything she had thought was a lie. She had known for a while now but it seemed that her old naive state of mind continued to come back and haunt her. She had thought she saw the end and the hope of happiness. She knew that she would forever be bitter and judgmental; second-guessing everyone's movements and motives. She would never be able to trust another person. The innocent girl she had once been, that girl she had loved so dearly, was dead and gone along side her still born child. No part of her in that moment thought that she would ever be able to recover from this loss.

“I thought you said you were going to care for her?!” Sansa hissed. She stood aways back, watching the withering girl on the bed. The shadows were small because the sun was streaming through the one window in the tower's room. The darkness was casted towards the back of the cell only and it took a good amount of effort for the dark corner to hide herself as well as her guest fully. “This does not look like a woman who has been cared for.”

“Says to woman who called for her head.” Varys drawled, causing Sansa to narrow her eyes but he didn't notice; instead he continued to stare at the helpless woman. “I did what I could with the restriction I had. I even kept her company for hours on end. I grew found of her.” Varys turned his head and looked at Sansa pointedly. “I don't recall you visiting her once since the incident in the throne room.”

“How could I? How could I visit her once I proclaimed in front of the entire court that I wanted her dead. I'm sure people will be buzzing with rumors that I had a hand in the child's death!” No matter what Sansa's feelings towards her were, she never would have wished this upon her; or anyone. Now that she carried her own child within her, she could not imagine the pain it would cause to lose it. “I cannot understand how it happened. She wasn't even at term yet.”

“No. She wasn't but her body had been under stress for a good long while and the conditions she was given were not ideal, even with my help.” He looked over to the girl again. “Even if she had been been full term, it wouldn't have mattered, the cord was wrapped around his poor neck. Child was blue as the sky when he was delivered, couldn't breathe.” Sansa couldn't help but have her hand travel to her own neck. She knew what it was like to have something strong chocking her and what it was like not being able to breathe. She pitied the child far more and couldn't imagine how terrified the poor little one must have been. 

“Do you think she will speak to me?” Sansa asked, unsure of the answer. The poor woman had been catatonic ever since the death of her child. Varys had sent word to Sansa of the unfortunate development and she made her way to the tower that her old friend had been imprisoned in for the last few weeks. However, even hearing Sansa's voice didn't jog her out of her misery induced trance. “I want to help her but I can't do that if she won't allow me to speak to her.”

“I can try, but no guarantees. She’s only given me a few syllables.” Varys stepped forward and gently placed a hand on the quivering shoulder. He sat down on the bed and noticed how the body grew still at the contact. “Jeyne, Lady Baelish is here to speak with you. Would you like that?” Nothing. There was no response and Varys nudged her again. Nothing. No movement or sound came. Varys sighed and turned toward Sansa, giving her a small but sad smile. “I'm sorry.”

“No. I understand. I will come back.” Varys stood from the bed and motioned toward the door. Sansa nodded. Before she was able leave, Sansa had to give the bed one last look. Varys who saw the complete look of guilt written all over Sansa's face, turned slightly hoping to block the bed from view. While he knew that Sansa wasn't innocent and had done many things that would deem her a villain, Varys couldn't help but feel sorry for her. He knew the events that lead her to become this person and he couldn't fully fault her for it; even if he did fault her choice of husband. Sansa turned to leave but stopped once she heard her name.

“Sansa.” It was a silent cry from a wounded animal. The sheer pain in the voice is what stopped her and not the sound of her name. She turned and saw that Jeyne had shifted in the bed. She wasn't sitting up or fully turned over but Sansa could see her eyes; those tear stained and pain stricken eyes. She had seen those eyes before because she had worn them all those years prior. However, Sansa's loss compared not to the child's corpse Jeyne was forced to hold in her arms. “Stay.”

Sansa nodded and began to make her way toward the bed. Varys placed his hand on her forearm and gave it a gentle squeeze. Sansa smiled at him before pulling away. Varys left the chamber and closed the door behind him; she did not hear the distinct sound of locks, so she knew that he left the door unlocked. However, it was clear that he would be waiting outside in order to lock it. No matter how kind he was to Jeyne, she still had to be under lock and key. Jeyne sat up slightly, allowing Sansa to sit down and then Jeyne placed her head on top of her old friend's lap. 

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't. Just don't. I've heard that word, sorry, so many times and I just can't. The midwives, the guards, Varys...all of them. I can't hear it from you too.” Sansa stilled as she felt her heart shatter again. She couldn't help but blame herself for the predicament Jeyne was in. After a moment, she resumed her movements and began to brush Jeyne's hair with her fingers. However, her silence spoke volumes to Jeyne. “Why? Why did you do it? You ordered to have me killed, why?” Sansa could easily answer her but at this point, nothing she could say would make Jeyne believe her. She thought hard on what she could say that would suffice. 

“Do you remember when Joffrey and the rest of the royal family came to Winterfell?” Jeyne nodded and Sansa smiled back that the simpler times. “We laughed and giggled about how handsome he was. We thought I was so lucky because I was going to be queen with this handsome and noble king by my side. But we were wrong, we were so wrong. It was slow but I began to see what kind of monster he was. The more time he spent at Winterfell the more I realized the black soul that was inside him. When my father broke the engagement, I was happy.”

“No. No you weren't!” Jeyne pulled away from her and sat up on the dingy cot she had called a bed. There was fury in her eyes and that gave Sansa relief. If Jeyne could feel something other than the grief that was overwhelming her, then she would be able to survive this tragedy. “I remember it. You were devastated and heartbroken! Crying in your sleep! Barely speaking to anyone for days! Weeks even! Those weren’t the actions of someone who was happy!”

“The end of my engagement wasn't the reason for my despair. I was elated when my father pulled me into his study, informing me that my betrothal to Joffrey had come to an end.” Her father's nervous face flashed into her mind and her heart clenched tightly. “What I...what happened...that night; that horrible night I was found under the Weirwood, that lead me to my depression.” 

“The Wildings attack? You were terrified of course but-”

“There were no Wildlings Jeyne. There never was. I was raped. I was raped by King Joffrey. He wasn't going to be given his prize so he decided to take it.” Jeyne was frozen in place with wide eyes. She didn't move, simply looked at Sansa in complete shock. “Joffrey is a monster and you should realize that by now after your farce of a trial.” 

“No. He saved me from death. You would have had me killed. You would have slaughtered me and my child! What has happened to you Sansa? Even if he did what you are claiming, I don't understand how you turned into this cold and ruthless monster!” Jeyne paused in her ranting, pushing herself off the small cot. Sansa decided not to interrupt her but instead allowed her to abuse her in such a manner. “It has to be that husband of yours. Varys has told me of him. Brothel owning!? The whores! How can you let him touch you!” Sansa laughed hard at that and Jeyne was taken aback at her sudden outburst.

“Oh Jeyne, you are still the fool you've always been.” Sansa stood as Jeyne huffed at her insult. Sansa stood in front of her, towering over her. “You can hate me. You can say everything you want about me, my husband or anyone but I refuse to allow you to live in this fantasy that Joffrey is some knight in shining armor. I learned the hard way and if I had not demanded for your execution, Joffrey would have had you killed.”

“No..”

“He garbed your cunt in front of the entire court, do you honestly believe that an honorable man would do such a thing?” Jeyne didn't reply because she didn't have answer. “I made my decision that day knowing that it was a risk. I knew that Joffrey could have called my bluff and had you killed. It was a gamble but one that I needed to try. Understand that.” Jeyne looked at her and Sansa knew that her words were resonating with her. Jeyne crossed her arms over her chest as though she was holding herself together.

“What does it matter now? My son is dead.” The tears flowed freely again as though she had never stopped crying. Her entire body began to shake and Sansa pulled her close, allowing Jeyne to rest her head on her chest. Sansa held her as she grieved for her dead newborn. She could never imagine the pain she was suffering. The child that grew inside of her was more important than anything else; she could never imagine how devastating it would be for both her and Baelish if this child were never born. It was the driving factor for them to carry out their plans to end Joffrey's reign. 

“I know you don't want to hear it but I'm so sorry. If I could have prevented this from happening, I would have.” Her mind flashed to Cersei and the condolences she had given her mother when Bran had been pushed from the tower. She had proclaimed that she would never wish the loss of a child upon any mother; even though she was the reason why Bran had been murdered. Sansa realized that she had become just as ruthless as Cersei and she felt disgusted with herself. Cersei was one of the people Sansa hated the most and the thought that she was slowly becoming like her caused an internal crisis. 

“I know. This isn't your fault. It just wasn't meant to be.” Sansa didn't know how to reply so instead she just held Jeyne until she broke away. Slowly, the shorter woman made her way to the window she was lucky to have. She was removed from the dungeons and placed into this tiny chamber at the very top of the Red Keeps towers. That small window was her only source of sunlight. Jeyne closed her eyes and felt the sun rays hit her face. “I knew that when he was born and didn't cry that he didn't make it. He was so blue, almost purple and so cold. I held him close hoping to give him some warmth, wondering if he could feel it. I know that sounds silly but I just wanted him to feel his mother's warmth before the Old Gods welcomed him.” 

“I'm sure he felt it. I'm sure he knew that his mother loved him.” Sansa wanted to reach out to her but she didn't. Jeyne needed to remember her son and a touch of another would only take away from that. Sansa thought on the Old Gods welcoming Jeyne's child into their arms and it was the first time Sansa heard any reference to the Old Religion since her time in the Capitol. She heard nothing of the gods she stopped praying to long ago and she almost forgot about their existence. King's Landing was full of statues referring to the Seven. There were even orders dedicated for the purpose of worshiping them. Their ceremonies were convoluted and overly complicated. In Sansa's opinion, it lacked the simple and dark beauty that was the Old Religion. 

“He doesn't even have a name. I never got a chance to name him.” Jeyne laughed lightly. She turned away from the window to face the shadows again. Sansa could see the sad smile on her lips but the pure love shining in her eyes. It was a heartbreaking sight. “I was so concerned about keeping him alive that naming him never really occurred to me. Part of me was hoping Theon would acknowledge me long enough to want some type of....I don't know..contact? I thought he might want to think of names. Now all I have is a dead, nameless child, it's almost as though he was never real.” 

“It's not to late. You can still name him. He is real to you and every child deserves a name. No matter how short their life was.” Jeyne moved to speak over her but Sansa would not allow her to do so. “No. You felt him move inside you. You felt him grow. That makes him real and that makes him alive, even for a short period of time. If you could give him a name, what would it be?” 

Jeyne remained still, just looking over at Sansa, neither of them willing to move. After a few moments of long contemplation, Jeyne crossed her arms and made her way back over to the small cot. She lifted the corner of the mattress and pulled out a stack of yellowing parchment. She held them close to her heart before sitting down on the bed. The parchment was wrinkled and worn. Sansa could tell that Jeyne has read the words that were written in black ink several times. 

“Lord Varys had been very kind to me. I had expressed the desire to send a raven and he complied several times. Even giving me the responses back, to tell you the truth I was surprised I even got a reply. He never opened the letters, not once.” Sansa held back a smile, knowing full well that Varys had read every word. There were ways to re-close an envelope and have no one been the wiser. Yet, she was not going to take this moment from Jeyne. Sansa would allow her to believe in Vary's loyalty. 

“Who were you writing to?”

“Home.” Sansa tilted her head to the side, not expecting that answer. A small part of her was hoping she was writing to Theon and would be able to tell her of his whereabouts. It was a foolish hope. “Just to my mother at first but my father responded. I had thought his words would be ones of anger but he forgives me. He says that I am his daughter and no matter how far I have fallen I would always be welcome under his roof. They want me to come home and I want nothing more. I just don't know how the North would take my return. My husband is an enemy there and I guess that makes me one by association.” 

“I'm Wardeness of the North and if I say you are welcome there then no one has the right to proclaim anything else.” Sansa gracefully made her way to the small bed and sat down beside her old friend. “You will always be welcome in the North because it is your home as much as it is mine.” 

“Thank you, that is very kind but we both know that Joffrey is not going to let me leave. At least not until Theon is captured. When he is, I will most certainly be a widow. I guess that is my fate. I'm either his estranged wife or his widow.” She looked down at the parchment again as though she was trying to absorb the words. “He didn't deserve him. My son deserved a kind father; one who would have loved him. Theon doesn’t deserve the honor of naming him.” 

“He deserves the name of someone far better.” Sansa reached for her hand and linked their fingers together. Jeyne allowed the contact but her eyes never wavered from the letters in her hand. It was clear to Sansa that her friend wanted to go home to the North again, no matter what the people there may think of her. Being an outcast would be far better than being locked away in a cell for the remainder of her life. “Do you have someone in mind?”

“Do you know how relieved I felt when I read my parents words of forgiveness?” Sansa shook her head in the negative. “Happiness. It was the first moment of true happiness I felt since the day I married Theon. That day I was so happy because I thought that my life was going to change for the better, but I was such a fool. I couldn't really see how much I had hurt my parents and how much I damaged myself. I was fully expecting them to wash their hands of me but when I read those words the happiness I felt was far beyond the happiness my wedding day gave me.” Jeyne sighed and smiled. “So that is your answer. My son will be name after my father, the man who was willing to give me a second chance. It's not much but I hope it is enough. I can think of no other man who is worthy of that honor.” 

“Vayon Greyjoy. It's a beautiful name.” Sansa had always liked her father's trusted steward. He was a good man and always served her family loyally. He was always kind to her and encouraged the friendship between Jeyne and Sansa; but not out of political gain. His motivations were always pure and honest. Looking at the world now, Sansa has wished she realized how rare such a thing was. She thought back to the broken expression she saw when Vayon Poole walked his daughter down the aisle toward the Septon; such an expression could only be born out of true love. 

“Thank you. However, I wish I could give him the last name of Poole and not Greyjoy but unfortunately he is Theon's son.” Jeyne whispered and looked up at Sansa. While Sansa could understand Jeyne not wanting her son to have his father's last name, it was custom. Whether she liked it or not, her son was a Greyjoy and not a Poole; just like she was a Stark and not a Tully. Any child she gave birth to would be a Baelish and not a Stark. Once a woman marries, she may always belong to her family but her children will belong to her husband's. “Do you think I could bury him in the North, with my family. I know the Greyjoys won't care. The only person who was kind to me was Asha.” 

“Yes. I will make sure that Vayon Greyjoy is buried with your family.” Sansa squeezed her hand and smiled lightly at her. Motivation overtook her and she realized she could do so much more for Jeyne. She felt that she owed her that much at least. “Things are about to change in King's Landing, great things. I can make sure that you will be there to see. You will be able to put your son to rest. I can promise you that.” The sob that Jeyne let out and the tears that began to flow were not born out of sadness but instead, relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Jeyne's storyline is slowly coming to an end. I had a difficult time writing the death of her child but it needed to be done. 
> 
> Thoughts?


	74. Chapter 74

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well damn, my beta and I are on a roll tonight!

Chapter Seventy Four 

The steam rose high against the stone as more hot water was poured into the tub. A hint of lavender could be detected as the steam rose higher and higher, filling the room with the most wonderful aroma. Flowers floated in the water for more scent. It was extra and extravagant, something she didn't add every day but today was different. She was stressed and she was terrified that something would happen to her child. 

Sansa placed her hand on the ever growing bump on her stomach. Jeyne's devastated expression when Sansa tried to comfort her... she could never imagine that loss. The child shifted slightly and it made her smile. It was an odd feeling but not an unpleasant one and the one thing she was sure of was that if the child ever stopped moving, her insides would break. She didn't even want to think of the fury that her husband would feel. He would burn the world if their child died. 

She needed to wind down and relax. She ordered Ros to bring buckets of steaming hot water and then dismissed her, claiming that she would be able to handle the rest. She undressed slowly and slipped on a silk robe before opening one of the windows. She stuck her head outside the window, allowing the steam to roll out. She closed her eyes and inhaled the salt water. The wind was warm and all of the sudden she missed the cold. She missed how the ice felt flowing inside of her nose and how it felt inside of her chest. While King's Landing was her home, at least temporarily, she missed Winterfell. She was not able to set foot there again for a long while but it didn't mean she didn't miss it. 

The chamber was silent. She was alone. Arya was out with Syrio again and most likely would not be back for a good while. She was getting antsy and wanted to give that last final name. The three of them knew who it was going to be but it was best to wait just a bit longer. It was revenge and revenge was best left to stew before it was served cold. H'ghar was not going anywhere until that name was given and they needed to wait. Until then, Arya used her time wisely and never rested; training Baelish called it but Sansa was unsure for what exactly. 

Sansa moved away from the window and took off her robe. The silk robe dropped to the wooden floor and Sansa caught her own eye in the full length mirror in the corner. She smiled and tilted her head in order to see the bump more clearly. It had been four weeks since she told Baelish of their child and four weeks since she first felt the child move. She giggled lightly as the child moved again, reassuring her that he or she was strong and still growing. She walked over to the tub and stepped inside, feeling the heat scorch her skin. 

She hissed as she slowly lowered down, immersing herself fully into the water. She leaned back and rested her head against the rim of the tub. She closed her eyes and just allowed herself to feel the heat. She inhaled deeply and allowed the lavender to fill her nostrils. She could feel her joints and muscles begin to relax; causing her to nearly drift off. However, her nap only lasted a few minutes before she heard the door to the chamber open. Neither Lady nor Greywind growled so she knew that it was either her husband or Ros. She heard Baelish’s voice greet the wolves before calling out her name. 

“In here.” She could hear his footsteps and slowly the door creaked open to reveal him. He was dressed impeccably as always. He wore a long brown coat as always but today he wore a velvet vest over his shoulders that tied around his waits and covered his legs. The mockingbird pin was pinned on his covered neck. She saw that he was bare foot, knowing that he had kicked off his boots at the door. She would have to scold him about that later. Another thing she noticed was that he carried a thick black box in her hand. “What do you have there?”

“A gift for you.” Sansa smiled widely and leaned forward. She placed her arms on the rim and then rested her chin on her arms. She saw his smirk as he strolled toward her. He sat down on the wooden floor beside the tub in order to become eye level with her. He held out the black box but pulled away when she reached for it. Sansa narrowed her eyes at him and he chuckled. “Your soaking wet Sweetling, I don't want this wet.” Baelish pulled at the ribbons and slowly opened the box. Inside was the most gorgeous necklace Sansa had ever seen. 

“It's beautiful.” The necklace would rest just above her collar bone. It was gold with seven intricate pendants and hanging from each pendant were seven sapphire blue diamonds. Sansa reached out again but Baelish pulled away. She wanted to touch it but she knew that it would have to wait until she was dry. She was used to her husbands random gift giving but this was far more than she was expecting. “And what exactly is the special occasion for such a gift?” 

“Can't I give a gift to the woman carrying my child?” His voice was low and teasing with a cocked eyebrow. Sansa just smirked at him, knowing her husband far better than he gave her credit for. “The King is to be married in two days. You will need to wear your hair down in order to mask this last diamond, and most importantly, once you wear this necklace at the wedding, you must never wear it again. It will be disposed of.” 

“Why?” The word came out in a whisper. She didn't want to destroy something so beautiful. Never before had Baelish ever told her to get rid of a gift he had given her. In the back of her mind, she knew exactly why but she needed to hear it from him. She needed him to confirm her suspicions out loud. She needed to know if she was right. “Why destroy something so beautiful?” 

“Looks can be deceiving, as you should very well know.” Sansa knew that all too well. Joffrey was a beautiful person, by looks only. He took after his mother in that regard; both beautiful with dark and ugly souls. She had become very similar in that regard. “The reason this necklace can be worn only once is because of the secret it holds.”

“And what secret is that?” 

“Poison.” She looked at the necklace again and raised an eyebrow. She knew that her husband would never put her into harms way. “The diamond at the far end contains enough essence of nightshade to incapacitate the King. It won't kill him but it will make him weak enough to subdue and weak enough to be killed.” He snapped the box shut and Sansa pouted, not ready to take her eyes off the necklace. “Do you honestly think I would let you kill him without having control over him?” 

“Never.” She smiled and Baelish leaned in, kissing her lips. Baelish broke away before standing. He placed the black box on the wooden table before throwing his vest on the ground and walked over to the water. He rolled the coat sleeves up to his elbows and tested the water. It was still hot and Baelish shrugged off the coat. 

Sansa leaned forward as she watched him undress. She watched as he pulled each and every string on this clothing loose and one by one each part fell from him. It wasn't meant to be seductive or alluring but watching him undress was always attractive to her. Once he was fully undressed, Sansa moved forward, allowing more room for him. The tub was bigger than most and Sansa was certain Baelish bought it for this purpose. He slid into the water behind her, hissing as he went. He lowered himself slowly and once he settled in, Sansa leaned back against his chest. Baelish kissed her red hair that was piled on top of her head. 

She rested her head against his shoulder while he wrapped his arms around her. He placed his hand on her growing bump as he always did. He was waiting to be able to feel the child move but he or she could not be felt from the outside. He sighed impatiently but Sansa smiled. She would tell him that his time would come and soon they would have a wailing child in their arms. They lingered slowly in the water, not speaking but enjoying the company of each other. Baelish inhaled deeply and rested his cheek against her red curls. 

“Speak to me.” He whispered in her ear and she could feel his hot breath on the side of her face. She placed her hand on his, linking them together. “Something is obviously bothering you. Talk to me.” Sansa sighed and pushed against him. She wanted to be as close to him as she possibly could. She wrapped his arms around her and leaned against him. “Tell me what is on your mind.”

“Jeyne lost her baby.”

“I know. It's a horrid thing and of course it has been the talk of the court.” Baelish replied in a low tone and Sansa huffed in frustration. Ever since she had publicly asked for Jeyne's head, the court had looked at her differently. No one was willing to confront her, because while they all loved their gossip, none of them wanted to be directly a part of it. They all pitied Jeyne but now relished in her ever growing misfortune. “They are not being very kind to her, or you for that matter.” Sansa turned in the tub and gave her husband an incredulous look. She could not believe that he would allow such comments to go unpunished. “A few of them may find their servants not so loyal and the girls I provide for them not so healthy. Warts and boils is a perfect revenge especially when it is on ones genitals.” 

“Seriously!” Sansa laughed out loud. She placed her hands on the rim of the tub and shifted so she was straddling her husband and looking at him, face to face. He leaned in and she kissed him gently, as a thank you of sorts. “I went and saw her today. Jeyne. She is distraught of course. I promised her that we would send her back North so she can bury her child. We can do that right? Once Joffrey is dead?” 

“Of course. I will do whatever you want me to do. If you want Varys to be King I will find a way to make him one, whether he wants to be or not.” Sansa laughed, knowing that he was picking the most ridiculous person, for the sole purpose to see her smile. No matter how cold Baelish was, he hated seeing her sad and wanted to make her smile, at any cost. “Although, thinking on it I don't think I want him on the Iron Throne.” He threw her his infamous smirk before growing serious. “But joking aside, I don't think Jeyne is the only thing worrying you.” 

“What if...what if that become me. Petyr, if I lost this child I don't think I could bare it. I've lost so much already that...” Baelish put his finger on her lips in order to silence her. He pulled his hand away from her lips and placed it on the side of her face, stroking her cheekbones with his thumb. He leaned in again and kissed her lips, allowing their tongues to mingle for a few moments. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers and looked deeply into those ice blue eyes. 

“I would burn all of the Seven Kingdoms before I ever let anyone harm our child. Please believe that.” He kissed her again before pulling her close to him. “Jeyne was locked away in a tower, alone, with only the things Varys provided for her and that wasn't much. You have one of the best maesters and midwives looking after you. You have the best care and I will be damned if anything happens to you or our child.” Sansa nodded and wrapped her arms around his shoulder. She rested her head against his shoulder. When he spoke about their child, it always made him seem more attractive to her. She shifted forward slightly, allowing her center to brush against his member. Baelish hissed, locking his teeth together. “Sweetling, if you do not intend to follow through, please don't tease me.” 

Sansa got a wicked smile on her face and pushed her hips forward, causing him to harden under her. She placed her hands on his chest and twirled some of his black chest-hair between her fingers. She arched her fingers, allowing her nails to dig into his skin before dragging them downward. She latched her lips onto his collarbone, nipping at it. She licked and bit her way up to his throat, sucked until there would be a bruise left. Her strained whimper found his way into his ear as his enlarged member slid between her folds. 

“Perhaps I intend to follow through.” She rocked forward again, causing Baelish to hiss again. Her hand cupped him and began to massage him. His hands came out of the water and gripped the rim of the tub. His nails dug into the wood to the point that he would have splinters in the morning. She rocked her hips, matching her tempo with her hand. “Do you know how it makes me feel to see you so protective? The promise and adoration behind your voice when you merely mention our child? It sends a surge of desire to my center and the thought of having you isn't enough.” 

“Then take me.” His voice was hoarse and cracked. The desire consumed him and he would break if he didn't feel her heat wrapped around him. Sansa didn't take control of their encounters often but when she did he couldn't help but be mesmerized. The look in her eyes brought him back to that moment, in her father's solar as she knelt down before him, taking him into her mouth for the very first time. The memory caused him to grow even harder. “Please.” 

“I do like it when you beg.” Sansa sat up just enough to position him before sinking down onto him. She groaned loudly in desire as her body took him in deeply. Baelish watched as she threw her head back, allowing a few loose curls to hit the water and her breast to push forward against his chest. Sansa placed one hand on the back of the tub while the other weaved its way into his black hair. “It gives me pleasure to hear how you ache for me.” 

“Always, I always ache for you.” The words came out as a whisper as Sansa began to rise up and then take him inside of her again. Baelish couldn't keep his eyes off of her growing breasts as they would touch the top of the water and then rise above it. The ripples in the water rushed forward as their tempo picked up slightly. It was still slow and torturous but just enough to cause immense pleasure. The spot he hit inside of her brought pleasure she didn't think possible. 

“Tell me.” Sansa pressed her forehead against his, mingling their hot breaths together. Her hand left the back of the tub and ran down his chest again. Her lips met his in a feverish kiss before she yanked his hair backward, causing him to whimper in enjoyable pain. “Tell me when and how you ache for me.” 

“Always. All day. I think about how you feel. I think about how your breasts feel pressed to my chest.” Sansa pushed her breast forward, allowing her hard nipples to grace his chest hair. “Yes, just like that.” He groaned and his hips bucked forward, hitting a spot deep inside of her. The feeling made Sansa moan loudly and water to splash out of the tub. “I think about you writhing above me and under me. I think about how you cry out my name. It makes the dullest of council meetings stimulating.” His right hand loosened on the wooden rim. “ I ache for you always. All day. Everyday.” 

Baelish's hand went down to her center and began to twirl her nub in circles. Sansa cried out and the already intense pleasure increased. Her tempo began to speed up, causing the rocking of the water to go high. The distinct sound of splashing and water hitting the wooden floor reached their ears. However, their attention was elsewhere that they didn't seem to care. Sansa's nails dug deep into Baelish's scalp as she pulled his head forward, latching her lips with his. 

Their tongues mingled, fighting for dominance. Sansa's hand loosened her hand in Baelish's hair and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She pressed her breasts to his chest. Their lips broke apart and she rested the side of her face on his. Baelish's arms wrapped themselves around her, his fingers trailing the length of her spine. Their tempo slowed down from the frenzied speed it had been but Sansa focused on the tension that was building inside of her. She chased it, feeling his fingers on her and flexing her muscles around his length; pulling and squeezed, sucking him for everything he is worth. 

“Come for me.” 

Sansa was blinded by his whispers. His hot breath in her hair caused that tingling feeling to surge through her. She didn't even feel the heat of his seed spill inside her. She didn't hear herself scream out his name. Before she knew it, she was coming down from her pleasure to her racing heart and Baelish jagged breath. She rested her head in the crook of his neck, attempting to catch her breath. She felt his fingers trailing her spine and Sansa enjoyed his touches.

“Do you really think about me? All day?” Her voice was breathless and her heart was beating as though it was bound to burst from her chest. He was still inside of her but she could tell that he lost his hardness. Neither of them was willing to move, thus he stayed buried deep inside her. In the back of her mind, she wondered if their child would be able to sense their intimacies but she found that it might be a bit ridiculous to think so. 

“Well, not just in that way but yes, you are consistently in my thoughts.” Sansa lifted her head and Baelish pushed a few loose strands out of her face. Specks of water were lining his face and Sansa looked around noticing water on the surrounding floor. “I think about you when I make moves or decisions. I think about you and consider you in everything I do. I also think about our future and what our child will be like. Even when I'm not thinking about you, I am always conscious of you.” 

“Sometimes, with you, I feel like I'm that young girl who has a crush on an older man who wouldn't look at her twice. I have these moments that take me by surprise that you would really want me but when you do, it makes me happy.” The words spilled out, allowing her to become more vulnerable than she liked; even with him. While he was the one person she trusted most, she didn't trust herself with those emotions. Ever since she discovered that she was with child, those emotions she worked hard to suppress, seemed to find their way to the surface more often. 

“I will always want you.” He leaned in and kissed her lips lightly before nipping at her nose. There was a mischievous look in his eyes and while it made Sansa nervous, she was thankful that he was not willing to dwell on her insecurities. He knew her far too well for that. “Although I am curious as to whom the older gentleman was that you have a crush on when you were younger? Tell me.” 

“I have no clue what you are talking about.” Her voice grew coy and falsely innocent, which he saw through completely. He raised his eyebrow in question and before Sansa could say another word, his fingers attacked her ribs. She cried out in surprise and couldn't stop herself from laughing uncontrollably as his fingers tickled her sides. He would not relent until she told him what he wanted to know. “Alright! Alright! I surrender!” 

“Tell me who you have a crush on and where can I find him.” His tone was teasing and Sansa knew that whatever man she may have fancied as a child was safe. He would never assassinate someone from her past, especially someone so fleeting, unless they had harmed her in some way. She giggled as she could still feel the aftermath of his fingers on her sides. While they stopped their assault, he moved them down to her expanding bump, hoping to feel the child move. 

“Well, there was this one man who visited my father, I can not remember his name for he wasn't with us long but he had these bright green eyes.” Her voice was coy and Baelish knew that she was making this figure up. The Starks were known for the generosity toward their servants and the loyalty those servants gave. Once someone served the Starks, they stayed for life. “And he had this dark hair, almost dark as night with strands of grey it, like stars hanging in a midnight sky.” 

“And what was he at Winterfell for?” 

“He was there to collect our taxes.” Baelish smiled and Sansa leaned down to capture his lips. The kiss was light and lazy. Sansa shifted herself back around causing his member to slide out of her completely. She placed her back against his chest again and he wrapped his arms around her. Baelish whispered to her, about how much he adored her, his hands once again resting on her bump. It seemed as though he was never able to take his hands off of her. 

“Feeling better?” Sansa didn't reply but she nodded her head yes. She still worried that she might lose this child but having Baelish's support beside her made her feel much more comfortable. “I promise that nothing will happen to you. Maester Reedman is paid well and would never betray us. He will work tirelessly to make sure that this child is born because if he doesn't he knows that his life would not last much longer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is as close to the "I love you" as they will get. This chapter was not meant to have smut but it took me by surprise and those two just went at it. Plus, who does not like some pleasure during bath time??
> 
> Also, I posted a one shot tonight called "An Offer on the Table". Check it out! Complete smut filled. 
> 
> Thoughts are always welcome.


	75. Chapter 75

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is another chapter. I've been feeling the juices and the desire to write more often, which is a good thing. I would write faster if I wasn't bogged down with school work and work, but I'm on a roll!

Chapter Seventy Five

The dress was white, an uncommon occurrence for a royal wedding. Nonetheless, it was more beautiful than any other dress in the Seven Kingdoms. The entire wedding was far too extravagant than was necessary but Joffrey always insisted on having the best of everything; if he was King, why not show it in the most ostentatious way possible?? Margaery certainly lived up to his expectations. As she strolled down the aisle on Mace Tyrell's arm, Joffrey's smile indicated that he was pleased with her; something that just turned Sansa's stomach, that smile made her remember things that she would rather forget. If Sansa and Baelish were not to intervene, Sansa knew that Margaery would be screaming on her wedding night, but it would be out of pain and not pleasure. 

She didn't feel that it was real. The four of them; Baelish, Sansa, Olenna and Margaery never congregated in one room again, not after meeting at the brothel. They laid out their plans and set them in motion but it didn't feel real yet. She knew that this was going to be her biggest move in the game to date. Yet when she expressed her thoughts to her husband, he only smirked at her with a raised black eyebrow. It almost made Sansa believe that he was planning something bigger and far more life changing. What Sansa wondered the most was, what could possibly be bigger than killing the King? 

Despite the nausea that Sansa felt at his sickening grin, she couldn't help but agree that Margaery looked beautiful. Her dress was as daring, as it was white. The back was open, showing more skin than what was considered proper. When she passed Sansa and Baelish, Sansa could see the beautiful blue roses that lined the train of the dress. It was a signal that Margaery was a Tyrell and no matter what last name she took, no matter how temporary, she would never belong to the Lannisters. 

The entire audience was enraptured with Margaery. They all adored her; every single person was excited to have her as their new Queen. Sansa could hear the crowed raging outside, cheering her name, wanting to see the first appearance of Joffrey's bride. They adored Margaery and were willing to forgive Joffrey for his wrong doings if he had Margaery by his side. What the Seven Kingdoms didn't see was the toll it took standing by Joffrey's side. If Joffrey remained King, he surely would have killed her, causing the Kingdoms to completely revolt against him. If Sansa were not expecting Baelish's child, he surely would have allowed such a thing to happen, keeping his hands clean. However, he refused to allow Joffrey to use their child against them.

When Margaery reached the altar, Mace took her hand and placed it in Joffrey's. Mace seemed overly joyful and jolly, as though he has no idea the monster he was giving his daughter to. He laughed loudly and it was clear that the only person who minded was Olenna. She appeared grave as though she was attending a funeral; in many ways she was. Margaery appeared to be as enraptured and excited as any bride would be. She either played her part extremely well or her joy steamed from the knowledge that her wedding night would make her a widow as well; either way Sansa couldn't tell the difference.

The ceremony was held in front of the Seven, much like her brother's was; and Jeyne's when she married Theon. False weddings, Sansa thought. When Jeyne and Theon married, it was in front of the Seven and their marriage resulted in a small war in North, a man hunt for Theon's head; and the death of their only child. When Rob married Roslin, there was so much promise but ended in betrayal and murder. Sansa was not religious but it felt as though being married in front of the Seven was wrong, like praying to false gods. She was married the old way in the Old Religion and her marriage was stronger than ever.

Joffrey look off his cloak and placed it over Margaery's shoulders. The cloak was golden with a giant red lion on the back. A lion, not a stag. It was clear that the Lannisters were in charge and completely obliterating Joffrey's false Baratheon heritage. Sansa's cold eyes looked around the congregation and only saw joy and admiration. None of them noticed the games that were being played before their eyes. They continued to be blind to the truth. When they turned with linked hands, signaling their new union, the crowed in the chapel cheered.

“We have a new Queen.” Her voice was dull and bored. Her hands clapped but there was no enthusiasm behind it. It was temporary but she knew that she could never be happy for anyone who had to be tied to that monster, no matter how short of a time. Old Sansa would have been bitter at the thought of someone else becoming queen but now it was a relief. Even if Joffrey weren’t King, she would not want to be queen. 

“Better her than you Sweetling.” Baelish whispered as the bride and groom passed. Baelish held out his arm and Sansa linked theirs together. Her pale hands rested on the light blue fabric of his cloak. Baelish purposefully matched his wife's light blue and revealing dress. Her dress was chosen to match the necklace that hung around her neck. Her red hair was loose and the curls hung around her waist in order to mask the two end diamonds; or at least it would. Her hair was behind her shoulders but once that last diamond was removed, her long hair would hang over her shoulder, covering the necklace. 

They strolled through the chapel, trailing a distance behind the newlyweds, with Arya lingering behind them. It was crowded and loud, with cheers and laughter but they were able to make their way outside easily. The wedding feast was to be held out in the courtyard with tents and wooden tables lining the beautiful courtyard. The tents were colorful, with red and gold, showing the Lannister pride. There were no hints of the Tyrells being involved in the wedding, which Sansa found slightly odd; Olenna was paying for half of the wedding, she would have thought she would insist on at least a few golden roses to be about, but there was not a single reminder that Margaery was a Tyrell; other than the beautiful white dress. 

Members of the King's Guard were stationed around the courtyard. They stopped each guest and searched them lightly. Cersei had grown paranoid and saw a conspiracy around every corner since Meryn Trant had been murdered; even if the dart was not for her son. She insisted that everyone be searched at the wedding and that Joffrey be guarded at all times. Joffrey of course was used to such treatment, being followed by guards didn't faze him. When Sansa was being searched, the guard’s hands running along her body, they found nothing.

“I think that is enough.” Baelish hissed to the guard, whose hands lingered far too long on his wife than either of them liked. He pulled her away from him and waited while Arya's search was quick. He led the two of them away from the guards and toward the dining area. “Sit on the end.” Baelish whispered and Sansa nodded. They reached their table, one set aside for high lords and the small council. He placed himself between Arya and Sansa, placing his arm on the back of Sansa's chair. She sat down and leaned into him, her leg brushing against his. Arya saw the movement and rolled her eyes. She was used to the constant touching of her sister and brother-in-law. “When Lady Tyrell comes here, hug her tightly, she will do the rest.” 

“This isn't going to kill him right? As amazing as it would be to watch him...” Sansa paused and looked around. She was whispering but it would not be wise for anyone to hear them, not at such a joyous event or ever. “I thought it would be more hands on than this. I thought I could be up close and personal.” 

“You will be.” He moved his arm and took her hand, bringing it to his lips. He kissed the back lightly. Arya snorted and laughed at the two of them. She had not heard a word they were whispering, assuming that Baelish was telling her sister all sorts of naughty things. Arya's mind flashed to the campgrounds they occupied during their travels to King's Landing and the nights she would lie awake, hearing them scream each other's names. It was not real shock to her that Sansa was pregnant and Arya was slightly jealous of her. Arya's course was set and she didn't want to change it but part of her wanted to know what it was like to have a man scream her name. 

“Should I find Syrio tonight? If the two of you are going to be all over each other, I would rather not have to listen to it again. Or perhaps I should go find another friend of mine.” Arya started in a teasing tone but ended on a far more serious one. She was getting antsy, even though she knew H'ghar would wait the rest of his life until his debt was paid. Arya just wanted her revenge and patience was not one of her strengths. She was ruled by her emotions as strongly as Sansa shut hers down. 

“I think it would be best if you stayed in tonight. Sansa and I may be late but it would be best if you stayed inside.” Arya opened her mouth to argue but Baelish held up his finger, silencing her. He gave her a look that he never used. It was the Littlefinger mask, the one he used when a whore got too comfortable. “Stay inside.” His voice grew deep and held a hint of warning to it. Arya was a smart girl and knew that if Baelish was commanding her to do something, when he never got involved in her life beyond being her benefactor, she was going to listen.

“Okay. I'll stay in tonight.” 

“Splendid.” His voice changed and his shoulders relaxed happily. Sansa leaned into him, wrapping her arm around his shoulder in order to appear as the doting wife. They didn't want to appear to be tense or concerned; the last thing they wanted to do was to appear suspicious in any way. “As for H'ghar, it would be best to let him wait a bit longer. One of the best ways to seek revenge is to let your enemies get comfortable. Let them think the danger has passed and when their guard is down, that is when you use that name. Okay. Not a moment before.” 

“But when will I know? When will that moment come? It has been weeks since Jeyne committed suicide and Lady Westerling is still hanging on Tywin's arm!” Arya hissed and Sansa's eyes moved toward the head of the tables. Joffrey and Margaery were front and center. Margaery was playing the part of the doting bride perfectly; touching Joffrey's arm in the right place, smiling at the right moment. At the end of the high table Tywin and Sybil were sitting proudly, as though they were ruling the entire world. However, no matter how much the sight of Sybil made keeping her temper in check difficult, it wasn't them that made her blink.

“Soon. I'll tell you when. Don't worry. She is being watched.” Arya nodded, trusting Baelish. She knew that he had spies lingering throughout the entirety of Westeros, it did not surprise her in the least that he had someone watching Sybil's every move. Baelish turned in his seat and looked at his wife. Her eyes fixed on a figure at the high table but it wasn't the King or his new Queen. “What is it?” 

“Did you know that Tyrion was attending the wedding? I thought you had talked him out of it.” It was made clear that Tyrion was not welcome at the Red Keep however, Tywin wanted him at the wedding. It was to show unity and that the Lannisters were strong. Tywin wanted the Lannisters to seem impregnable even if the opposite was the truth. 

“I thought it would be best if he attended; last minuet change of plans and Tywin thought it would be best to have his son at the King's wedding. A front, if you will. Tyrion will be back in the brothel by nightfall.” Baelish stated but Sansa could tell that he was telling a half truth. His eyes looked at her as though he was telling her something that could not be said aloud. Whatever he was planning, it was important that Tyrion stayed out of his father's reach and under his own thumb. She got a sinking feeling that in the pit of her stomach that something was going to go terribly wrong. “An interested party needs him back at the Red Keep for the time being.” It was a whisper but she was unable to reply because in the corner of her eye, she could see Olenna making the rounds. The two of them cooled their features, waiting for the older woman to approach. 

Olenna looked as she always did. Her turban was white with golden embroidery throughout. Her dress matched her turban and there was a golden sash around her waist. A rose was bright and noticeable in the center. The dress was perfect for a hot day and it appeared as though she was far happier with the arrangement than she really was. It would not due for the grandmother of the bride to wear black on the big day; people could get suspicious. She approached the high tables, greeted a few other guest, not wanting to draw attention, only stopping to speak to Baelish and his wife. Sansa could see the look of contempt that was always on her features. Sansa smiled widely, false and insincere but the smile she wore for the court. Olenna was no fool, she knew exactly what that smile said. 

“Lady Baelish, you look lovely as always.” Olenna stated and Sansa stood from her seat. The older woman held out her arms and Sansa placed herself in them. Olenna was not a hugging woman but there were a few times she made an exception; if it came down to Margaery's safety, she would hug everyone if she need to. Sansa inhaled deeply and smelled the distinct scent of roses. If there ever was a rose with thorns, it was Olenna. “And what a beautiful necklace.” 

“Thank you, it was a gift from my husband.” Sansa smiled widely and Olenna reached up to trace the diamonds. She felt each of them slowly, as though she was looking for something. When she reached the last diamond, she heard a very faint crack and the necklace pull at her neck, as though something was being disconnected. Sansa watched as the small diamond slipped inside of her long sleeves and out of sight; knowing that it would not be there for very long. “He always has the best tastes. He loves to spoil me.” 

“Yes, well. Being married to him I dare say that you deserve some spoiling.” Olenna clucked with an amused smile. The words were directed more toward her husband than they were towards her. Sansa knew that despite the sarcastic exchanges and the distrust between them, they both were rather fond of the other. There was a lingering respect despite the fact that they would betray the other in a heartbeat. 

“I can hear you.”

“You always can when someone is talking about you; that self-inflated ego of yours.” Olenna clucked again before making her way, away from the table, greeting others as she went. Sansa sat down at the table and flipped her hair over her shoulder, covering the part of her necklace that was missing a diamond. She leaned into her husband and kissed his cheek. He was pouting slightly at Olenna's words, even if it was to just gain his wife's pity. 

“Even if you didn't spoil me, I would enjoy being married to you.” Baelish smirked at her and leaned in, joining their lips. They kissed, not caring if anyone else saw them. While there had always been lingering touches between them in public, they had never been openly affectionate with each other. Many members of the court pitied Sansa, thinking her parents had sold her to Baelish in order to pay the North's debt. While that may be true in a sense, none realized how much she enjoyed her husband. They had gotten a few stares during the meal but neither cared, it was important for them to be seen. Their alibi depended on it. 

“Seriously, the two of you are nauseating.” Sansa broke away and narrowed her eyes at her sister. Arya was laughing at them but Baelish ignored her. Instead, he moved his lips down her neck and was openly kissing her; the sucking noise was slightly obscene. Arya shook her head and it wasn't until a cough from Lady Yarwyck; an older woman with strict views, that she decided some things should be left in private. Sansa began to laugh and whispered her husband to stop, telling him they had seen enough. Baelish pulled away and placed his hand on her knee, before turning his attention to the high table, where the bride and groom sat proudly. Margaery leaned over and whispered something into Joffrey's ear, making him nod. He stood with grace, just as any nobel king would with his cloak swished behind him and his gold crown perched upon his head. He raised his gold goblet, tapping it with his silver fork. 

“Everyone!” Joffrey yelled and the voices grew silent, all eyes upon the king. “The Queen would like to say a few words.” The congregation cheered and clapped as he held out his hand. Margaery placed her hand into his and stood, a dignified look upon her features. It was the look Sansa knew she wore when she was playing the part of the King's betrothed, and now wife. It was the look of a Queen and it suited Margaery far more than it did Cersei. 

“We are so fortunate to enjoy this marvelous food and drink. Not all among us are so lucky. To thank the Gods for bringing us such good fortune and the debt of the Kingdoms decreasing, King Joffrey has decreed that the leftovers from our feast be given to the poorest in his city!” The congregation cheered louder at the proclamation, making Joffrey appear far more generous than he was capable. Joffrey did not appear to be surprised at Margaery's generous gift and that made Sansa believe that he knew all along. She wondered what Margaery had to do in order to allow him to agree to such a charitable act. Joffrey on his own would never be capable to give to the poor. 

“Look at Cersei. She looks as though she ate something horrible.” Arya stated and Sansa pulled her eyes from the newlyweds and looked at a few people down and landed on the ever beautiful Cersei. She scowled deeply and her eyes were narrowed at Margaery. Today had to be the embodiment of Cersei's worst nightmare; losing her son to a woman she believed to be a harlot. Unbeknownst to her, it was going to get far worse. “You were not joking when you said she hated Margaery.” 

“That is not the only thing to look at.” Baelish whispered to Sansa and she noticed Olenna stroll toward Margaery and Joffrey. Margaery stood and held out her arms. Olenna leaned in and kissed both cheeks, lingering a bit longer on the right, whispering something in her ear. For a split second, Margaery's face lost its graceful appearance but she fixed it quickly enough. Olenna turned away from her granddaughter and looked at her King. She said something witty because Joffrey laughed loudly. Sansa was certain that it was an insult that Joffrey didn't understand; his mind was not meant for witty repertoire. 

Olenna leaned over to reach for his face. It was in that moment that she saw how her hand passed dangerously close to Joffrey's goblet. She couldn't see it but Sansa knew that she slipped the poison into his goblet. With the same hand she poisoned him with, she patted his cheek as grandmothers were supposed to do and probably said something encouraging. Joffrey seemed pleased with what Olenna had said to him. When Olenna moved away, Joffrey leaned forward, taking his goblet in his hand, drinking deeply from it. It appeared as though nothing was amiss because he smiled as he placed the goblet down again with Margaery's eyes watching him closely. 

“The deed is done.” Sansa whispered, not looking away from Joffrey. The realization that these were the last few hours he would breath air and it filled her with excitement and joy. While she wanted to race past the few hours the wedding feast would last and move toward the wedding bed, she also wanted to savor these moments. Joffrey would no longer exist and the entire world would be so much better for it. Yet, she was not doing it for selfless reasons; her motivations were far darker. She wanted him to feel everything she felt that night, but she would accomplish what he failed to do. He should have killed her that night in the Godswood because she refuses to let him live the life of a King. 

“No, the deed is just beginning.” Baelish whispered back, kissing the back of her hand. He was looking at her deeply, appraising her reaction. He knew that it was not too late to pull out and allow Olenna to finish the job; but the look he received from his wife assured him that she was all in. Nothing would stop her from doing what she had dreamed about for years. 

“And you're sure that it will not end him, right now? In front of everyone?”

“No. The more he drinks, the poison will be amplified. We gave him a small amount but alcohol makes it more potent. It won't kill him but it will make him drowsy enough that his strength will expire. You will be able to overpower him easily.” Their heads were bent together and their voices so low that no one, not even Arya sitting next to them could hear what they were saying. Anyone would assume that they were whispering sweet nothings to each other but Arya knew them better than that. She knew what they looked liked when they in they were getting frisky. Quiet was not a word to describe them. Arya was growing suspicious but knew that she would not intervene. 

“He won't be numb? He will feel everything right?”

“Yes, Sweetling. He will feel every moment of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well.....It's started. I'm sure you can guess what will happen next.


	76. Chapter 76

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here it is....the chapter we have all been waiting for. 
> 
> Now first things first, I want to give an amazing shout out to my beta Cris who has helped me craft this story. You have been amazing.
> 
> Second, I want to give you all a warning. This is graphic and it won't be pretty.
> 
> You have been warned.

Chapter Seventy Six 

Sansa was cold; ice cold. Her pale skin rivaled the freshly fallen snow and her hair was the color of blood. She had been much colder then, than she was now. Perhaps it was the memory playing out across her skin. She could still feel her insides begin to freeze, her heart slowing, welcoming the early stages of death. Fear coursed through her just as it had on that night. Looking back now, she knew she should not have taken a stroll with him, she could have denied him because whatever consequences she faced for not obeying the prince, would have been far better than the events that followed. 

Yet, she had been naive, thinking that he wouldn't try something so horrible in her own home. She had known that he had become a monster but her innocent mind could not imagine what he had in store for her. Her father had broken their engagement and she had thought her nightmare was ending. She had thought that Joffrey's abuse was going to end once the royal party left the North. He held out his arm and she gladly took it, thinking it would be appropriate to give him a goodbye at least. He led her out of Winterfell's dining hall with his ever-loyal guard, Meryn Trant trailing behind. Sansa remembered looking over her shoulder, her eyes lingering on her family for a brief second. The smell of wine and food filled the air just as music and laughter did. Yet, her memory was deaf as she looked at them for one last time as Old Sansa. 

Her father was in deep discussion with King Robert, both looking grave because they could not come to an agreement in regards to the engagement. Her mother was scolding Arya who had done something to displease her again, while Rob and Rickon's laughter rang out against the cold stonewalls. She never realized that this would be the last time she gazed upon them with innocent eyes. Her world view was about to change in a terrible way and this was last time she would feel whole for a very long time; not until a special mockingbird flew into her life. 

The farther he led her into the Godswood, the deeper the fear inside of her grew. It was as potent as the deep winter cold and made her lungs feel like ice. She inhaled deeply, seeing her breath exhale out in front of her. She remembered looking upward and seeing the branches of the tree bending in the howling wind. The stars were bright and even to this day, seeing the stars was something very difficult for her. They were the only things she was able to focus on while her person was being assaulted. He hit her first, making her fall to the ground in the cold snow.

Sansa closed her eyes and she remembered how the snow felt under her boots. She remembered how the wind felt, wiping across her face and the pain in her back as a twig dug into it. She remembered how she wasn't able to breathe because of thick fingers wrapped around her neck. She remembered the snow against her thighs and Joffrey's hands pinning her wrist to the ground, his hot breath in her ear and the piercing pain as he forced his way inside of her. 

She remembered the stars looming over her when she was left alone, bruised, broken and alone. The Weirwood's face glaring down at her and how she felt her need for vengeance grow in that exact spot years later. Lady had found her, and kept her warm as she howled. Lady howled and howled until they were found. Nymeria came first, followed by Greywind and Summer all curled together, preventing the snow and ice from taking her life. Next was Arya, who called for her but Sansa wouldn't respond. 

“Over here! I found her, she is over here!” She could still hear Arya's frantic cries as she took in Sansa's bruised and bloody body. She covered any evidence of Joffrey's penetrating assault; knowing the matrimonial bound that would be forced upon her. Arya wasn't certain that it was Joffrey who had done this but her gut told her it was him. Luwin was next, being a member of the search party. He knew what was right in front of him. “Please, don't let them see. Don't make this worse for her than it already is. It was Wildings, nothing more than that. Do you understand?” Luwin nodded, a silent agreement between them, and covered the signs Ary would not have thought to look for. 

Sansa couldn't speak as the anguished faces of the rest her family came into view; Robb's stone cold one and her mother's tear stained one. She remembered the embrace of her father as he lifted her from the snow; carrying her back inside Winterfell. Her vision was hazy as her eyes would drift behind her eyelids but she remembered her father's somber and broken look. She had drifted in and out but she remembered a moment in her bed when Joffrey was leering over her, a smirk plastered on his face; proud as he surveyed his work. 

Sansa jumped as she felt a hand on her shoulder, jerking her back to the present. Grey-green eyes looked down at her with concern. The King's royal chamber's unfolded around her and the summer heat graced her skin. She was no longer in the North and the nightmare that just replayed in her memory was nothing more than that; a memory. The chamber was everything a Lannister could want; red and gold hanging everywhere and a Lion proudly displayed on a tapestry. Not a single stag in sight. She could see her husband's concern for her clearly reflected in his eyes. She took his hands and brought it to her lips, reassuring him that she was perfectly capable of doing this. 

“Now now, Joffrey hurry up! I have a gift for you my King.” Margaery's voice could be heard coming up the stone stairway. Baelish kissed the top of Sansa's head before vanishing into the shadows of the room; watching at first. Sansa gave him one last look before she focused her gaze upon the wooden door. The doorknob turned and Margaery's laughter could be heard on the other side. It opened to reveal the bride leading her groom by the hand and into the last few moments of his life. “You will have to tell me if you enjoy your gift.” Joffrey stopped, frozen in the doorway. Surprise took over his features quickly replaced by curiosity.

“What is this?” His voice was hesitant but Sansa could hear the tone of excitement hidden in his words. Margaery kissed the side of his cheek before strolling over to the chair Sansa sat in. She placed her hands on the back of the chair and moved Sansa's red hair to the side. Her fingers traced the side of her neck and touched her collarbone where her necklace had been laying. Baelish had removed it before they reached Joffrey's chamber, smashing it into a thousands pieces and throwing it into the ocean, never to be seen again. Margaery continued to trace imaginary lines on her skin, neither of their eyes leaving Joffrey who was transfixed on them. Despite her misgivings in the brothel four weeks before, Margaery was playing her part perfectly. 

“My gift.” She placed both of her hands on Sansa's shoulders and started to massage them. She was setting up Joffrey for one thing when it was meant to be another. Sansa knew what was playing in Joffrey's mind. He was imaging him and his bride torturing and harming Sansa on their wedding night, because in his mind, Margaery was as sick and twisted as him. What would be better to solidify their vows than homicide? It would be but just not in the way he was imagining. “Isn't she beautiful?” 

“Always has been.” Joffrey's eyes trailed over her and that caused bile to rise up into her throat. She forced it back down and vowed that he would never be able to give her such gazes again. Sansa stood from the chair and forced her feet toward him. This was the very first time since Baelish and she presented their loyalty to him, that she voluntarily made her way toward him. When she was right in front of him, she looked directly into his eyes. They were glassy and she could see the essences of nightshade at work. He would attribute his sluggish behavior to the wine he drank, even if he didn't drink enough to cause such an affect. Sansa slowly raised her hand and placed it on his cheek, the place Margaery had kissed and stroked his cheekbone. 

“Are you feeling alright my King?” Her voice was gentle and caring but there was a hint of goading in it. She was taunting him and waiting for a response but it didn't come. A smirk appeared on Sansa's lips as her hand slowly dropped from his face. Before he could react, she quickly brought it back with a fierce slap. She hit him a second, then a third and by the forth hit, he was knocked down. He didn't rise quickly as he would have if he were in control of all his capacities. He stood with his hand on the red mark forming on his cheek. His eyes were filled with fury, yet Sansa stood her ground, refusing to allow him to abuse her again. 

“You little whore.” He hissed at her and she could see strands of spit spraying from his lips. Fear was growing deep inside of her but she refused to move, only glaring back at him. Joffrey raised his hand but before he would bring it down to strike her it was caught in midair. Joffrey turned his head to see Baelish gripping his wrist tightly. Fear and confusion were etched on the King's face and his eyes went to Margaery, who had taken a seat by the bed; legs crossed and eyes forward as though she was watching players preforming a play. “Let go of me. I am you King!” 

“You are nothing more than the man who raped my wife. Do you honestly believe that I would allow that to go unpunished?” The malice in Baelish's voice caused comfort and safety to soften her fear. He had promised that Joffrey would never harm her again and he was keeping that promise. He would always watch over her. She saw his knuckles flex as he gripped his wrist tighter. 

“Guards! Guards!” No one came.

“You may be our King but I'm the man who pays your guards. Who do you think they would be more loyal to?” Realization crept into Joffrey's mind when he realized how powerless he was. The shield of being King was not going to help him here. He pulled again but his strength was diminished by the poison and Baelish refused to let go. His grip just got tighter and tighter. Sansa smiled and bent down, bunching the silk of her dress, rising it to reveal her thigh. Holstered on her thigh was her ever present dagger. Sansa placed her finger on the tip and twirled it, drawing a tiny bit of blood on her forefinger. As she twirled she could tell Joffrey noticed the direwolf engraving. 

“It was a gift from Jon on my seventeenth name day. You remember my bastard brother right? He learned what you did to me and wanted me to be able to protect myself. Ever since I opened this, I dreamed of taking this blade to your throat.” Sansa took the velvet vest in her hands and placed the dagger at the opening. She cut the velvet in a straight line, hearing the fabric rip as she went. “I find it fitting that yours will be the first blood it tastes. He would have done it himself if he could but I will be honest to tell you that it is far more satisfying that I'm the one to see the end of you.” 

“Margaery! Help your husband! Help your King!” His voice was slurred and he started to feel for drowsy. He looked over Sansa's shoulder toward his new wife who didn't move an inch. She didn't even appear remotely worried for her husband and the danger he was in. She just sat in the oversized red chair with such grace and a crown on top of her head. A new Queen ready to assassinate her King; a royal tradition. 

“You once told me to learn my place and to stay out of your business. Well, husband, I've learned my place.” Sansa could tell that Margaery gained imminence satisfaction at Joffrey's outrage. Those words must have been spoken when Joffrey had beaten her. She heard those words every single night when she closed her eyes, knowing that those words would dictate the rest of her life if nothing was done. Margaery was a kindhearted person who wanted nothing more than power and privilege. She used the lower masses to gain their favor and in return, she gifted them well. Murder was something she wasn't built for, despite all of her political savvy, she was not a killer. “Don't you like your gift?” 

Sansa laughed and turned away from Joffrey, he lunged again but Baelish overpowered him easily. The King wanted to take her down but Baelish would not allow it. The older man wasn't the strongest or bravest of men but he could overpower a poisoned boy who couldn't fight back. This was a first for Baelish. He normally hired someone else to do his dirty work for him, keeping his hands clean. Other than Lysa, he never physically participated in a cold blooded murder. She walked over to the table that was in the center of the chamber. A wine bottle was in the center along with two goblets; a gift she knew was sent by Mace Tyrell. Sansa reached for it, poured herself a goblet and drank from it. 

“Petyr, take his clothes off.” She looked over her shoulder and saw the wide and proud smile on her husband's lips. He enjoyed seeing her take charge and knew she would be rewarded once they were finished here. Baelish obeyed and pulled the freshly cut velvet top from Joffrey's shoulders. He tried to fight but the effort was useless. Baelish moved to remove his trousers but Sansa held up her hand. “No. Leave those on.” She didn't know if she would be able to see that part of him again. Baelish nodded and didn't touch the trousers. “Get on the bed.” 

“You can't order me around like some common servant! I am the King!” The fury inside Sansa rose and she picked up the dagger again. She spun on her heals and sliced the dagger forward. She cut his cheek, causing his beautiful skin to bleed. His hand flew to his cheek in shock; it seemed as though he didn't believe that he would ever bleed. He thought he was invincible with no thoughts on how he would die, as though he never would. 

“Get on the bed or I'll cut you again only this time I'll cut something off.” The dagger was pointed directly at him and Joffrey knew that she was not fooling around. She stepped toward him, causing him to back up and sit on the bed. His fingers were still fingering the cut that was causing blood to drip down his cheek. Sansa stepped right in front of him and placed the dagger under his chin, pressing the flat end of the blade against his skin. “Lie down.” 

Joffrey, for the first time in living memory, did as he was told. His back rested against the white sheets, the red and gold silk covers were already pulled down in order to accommodate the bedding of the newlyweds. Sansa took a ribbon that was lying on a table and tied her long red hair back. She wanted him to see her face. The room was silent because no one dared to speak, allowing the tension in the room to grow thick. They could hear his terrified breathing in the room. Margaery glared at him, for the first time allowing her true emotions to play across her face. He wouldn't look at her but her glare was penetrating. She hated him and suddenly realized that she wanted him to die. Sansa turned to head back toward the bed and caught Baelish's eye. He wore that smile and his eyes were clouded. He enjoyed seeing her in such control and extracting her vengeance. She moved over to him and kissed his lips passionately before stepping onto the bed. 

“It's strange, having you completely at my mercy.” She straddled him but refused to allow his clothed member to come in contact with her in any way. She placed her hands on his bare chest while she held out the dagger. Baelish walked over and took it from her, not wanting it anywhere near Joffrey in case he decided to get some bravery and strength back. Baelish never moved from the side of the bed and made sure that the dagger was in full sight in Joffrey's vision. “Do you remember that night? The last time I was completely at your mercy?”

“Vividly.” He hissed at her through clenched teeth. Sansa placed her hands on his shoulders and slowly traced them down his arms. The tips of her fingers traced small circles on his forearm. She was slow and purposeful until she reached his wrists. There was a vein that she could see through his wrists and she traced her finger over it. She curled her finger slightly and dug her nail into the vain but didn't cause any more blood to spill. “It was the night I made you my whore.” 

“Call my wife a whore again and I will not allow her to finish what she started. Trust me, my grace, whatever my wife has envisioned for you is nothing compared to what I would do to you.” Baelish's voice was menacing, leaving no room for misinterpretation. Sansa turned her head slightly and gave him a smile. Sansa then gripped Joffrey's wrists and curled her nails into his skin; pinning his hands over his head. 

“Do you remember holding my hands above my head, leaving me powerless?” Joffrey didn't say a word but his eyes indicated that he relived the memory over several years. “Tell me, how does it feel to be powerless?” Joffrey didn't answer, refusing to give her the satisfaction. “No? Then tell me how it feels not to be able to breathe.” With that, Sansa took her hands away from his wrists and wrapped them around his neck. She gripped tighter and tighter until his face began to turn blue.

In that moment, she was cold again and she was brought back to the snow falling around her. She could feel those thick hands around her neck and her hands pinned above her head. She could feel him move inside of her and the searing pain it caused. She could feel her soul breaking. The memory and the pain made her angry; the angrier she got, the tighter her hands got around his throat. His hands flayed, attempting to fight her off but he wasn't strong enough. He started spitting as he attempted to catch his breath and his eyes started to get veins of red started to pop out of them. When the pain in his eyes became so apparent, Sansa released her hands causing Joffrey to begin to cough; his hands flying to his neck. 

“Feel that? That pain? The chocking pain when you breathe? It lasted for days, weeks to the point that speaking became unbearable. I would look at my wrists and see the bruises you left, I would trace them for hours, trying to block it out. No matter how I tried, that pain lingered for years. When Petyr came into my life he showed me what vengeance could feel like. I imagined you dying over and over again by my hands. I wanted you to choke on your own vomit but then I realized that wouldn't be good enough for you. No. Your blood needs to spill until you are covered in it.” Sansa, never taking her hands off of Joffrey, held out her hand. “The dagger Petyr.” Baelish gripped the blade of the dagger and placed the handle in her hand. “I'll get immense pleasure watching your mother cry over your body.” 

Sansa raised the dagger and brought it down. Her vision was red and she just continued to stab him. Blood flew everywhere and Joffrey's chocked screams filled her ears, until they didn't. When he stopped screaming, she continued to stab him. The dagger was difficult to insert at first, similar to the blade cutting leather but it got easier as her target got slippery. The blood made it simpler to insert the blade. The blade came down again but was stopped; gentle hands grabbed her arm, stilling it. 

“Sansa stop. He's dead.” Margaery's tone filled her ears and Sansa's vision cleared. In front of her was Joffrey 's corpse, covered in blood. His face has specks of his blood on it but the mess was directly on his chest. She counted the wounds and there was twenty seven stab wounds lingering on his chest. The blood was still fresh, flowing from the wounds. His eyes were open, staring up at her, looking terrified. She had thought she would feel happy after this moment but all she could feel was the numbness, all she could hear was the sounds of drums in her hear. She brought herself out of the trance when she felt Baelish's hands rest on her shoulders. 

“Let me clean you, Margaery will do the rest.” Baelish whispered to her and she nodded. She crawled off the dead king and was led over to a basin filled with water. Baelish took a cloth and began to clean the blood off of her. The water was cold and Sansa was thankful for that. He placed the cloth back in the water to rinse it and the water turned red. She looked down at her dress and realized that it was ruined; stained in blood. She knew that Baelish would dispose of it. 

She looked away from the basin and back over to the bed. She noticed that Margaery had undone Joffrey's trousers and pulled them off of him, tossing them aside. She began to undue her own dress throwing it around the room to make it appear as though Joffrey had taken it off of her. She was naked but only for a second. She grabbed a black silk robe and put it on her. She took her hair down and messed it up enough to make it appear disheveled. She moved to stand in front of Baelish who didn't leave Sansa side. He took off his coat and placed it around Sansa's shoulders before turning to the newly widowed queen. 

“Do it.” 

“It will hurt.” Baelish's voice was tense but comforting. Margaery shrugged indicating that she didn't care what he did, just has long as he made it look believable. He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows and his jaw constricted. He raised his hand and hit Margaery across her face. She didn't fight back but instead allowed Baelish to hit her. He went over to Sansa and pulled the ribbon from her hair, making sure that no red strands were left behind and tied Margaery's wrist together. He went to the bed and ripped part of the sheet. He tired a knot and walked back over to Margaery. “You might be uncomfortable for a time.”

“A bit of discomfort is better than a lifetime of pain with him.” Her head nodded toward the bed and toward Joffrey's corpse. “Do your worst.” Baelish placed the knot in her mouth and tied the sheet at the back of her head. Once it was secure, he hit her in the face again, this time hard enough to knock her to the floor. He kicked her stomach then, causing her to roll on the ground before he kicked her again. Sansa knew that Margaery would be all right and that she was expecting the beating to occur but it wasn't easy to watch. Baelish never got his hands dirty but wouldn't hesitate if he had too. He walked over to the bed again, picked up the direwolf engraved dagger and cleaned the blood off of it. He lifted Sansa's skirt slightly and placed it back into her holster. 

“Come.” He held out his hand and without a second thought she took it. He pulled her towards a back entrance and they fled the scene. The numbness of the act they just committed weighed on her but not in a negative way. She had thought that once she was finished with what she had come to King's Landing she would feel some sort of remorse for his death. She didn't think that she was completely heartless but what she felt shocked her.

Sansa felt nothing, only cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am rather proud of this chapter. I hope I was able to get the emotions I wanted to across. This isn't show Sansa. She isn't weak and she isn't nice. There is a darkness inside of her and I let it show in this chapter.
> 
> Please tell me what you think because I am nervous for it. I really hope I did it justice.


	77. Chapter 77

Chapter Seventy Seven 

The steps were made of red stone, just as the rest of the Red Keep. They ran down, hand in hand, quickly making their way through lesser known parts of the castle. The sound of heels hitting the stone echoed but Sansa heard none of it. All she could feel was her blood pumping through her veins and the sound of her heartbeat in her ears. The hand that was not occupied with Baelish's hands, went to his coat that still hung around her shoulders. She bunched the top together as though she was cold but in truth she didn't feel the goosebumps that rose on her skin. She felt nothing. 

She had thought that once Joffrey was dead, some sort of closure or relief would take over her. Yet, she had been wrong. She had thought that perhaps a part of old Sansa would resurface, with just a wiser mindset than the young child Joffrey had raped. Instead her insides went numb and her mind thought all off of the unknowns that still hung in the air. She had thought that Joffrey's death would be a climax and end the cursed existence she had been living. Then she met Baelish and he became the only bright spot when the world fell apart around her. 

She thought of Theon then, the only man she hated almost as much as Joffrey. He was alive somewhere unknown, not being punished for Catelyn's and Rickon's death. She wanted him to pay for it, she wanted to watch him burn. Perhaps if he did, the guilt she felt for their deaths and the trauma Jeyne suffered would lessen. However, now she was beginning to believe that her guilt would never fade just like she was now realizing the nightmare Joffrey had caused her would still exists; his death only meant the realm no longer had a lunatic for a king. Her pain meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. 

There were so many twist and turns to come. She knew that one day all the intrigues would end and Sansa wondered what part of her would be left. Theon, Jeyne's confession, Sybell, Joffrey's death, Tyrion, a third name waiting to be whispered, Baelish's master plan; they all weighed on her mind. When they ended, she wondered if she would feel anything then. She had pushed her emotions so far down in order to not to feel anything. Now, she killed a man in cold blood and she felt nothing. 

It scared her. She didn't want to become something cold and heartless with no attachments other than her children. She didn't want to become Cersei; drinking only red wine in order to mask the cold hollow hole where her soul should be. Sansa squeezed her hand, feeling the long and lean fingers weaved through hers. She squeezed again, feeling his warmth and her lips perked slightly. He turned back, looking over his shoulder at her. 

She met his eyes, those beautiful grey-green pouring into her and there was a stir of something. It was in the pit of her stomach and it felt as though something was moving. It was possible that the child was unsettled and was moving around but Sansa thought it was more than that. She had felt that child move in all sorts of ways and those moments were the highlights of her dark and tortuous life. Yet, there was something more. There was the one who put that child there. Her husband caused an array of emotions to flow through her and the one she refused to say aloud or even acknowledge. She wasn't cold and heartless but she wasn't kind and warm either. She was something more and he made her that way.

They were in a back part of the castle, one that even servants didn't use often. It was close to their chambers and Sansa could cut through those halls if she didn't want to be disturbed by guards or anyone else. She stopped but never let go of his hand. Baelish paused with a confused look upon his face. Sansa walked toward him and placed her hand on the tunic that was plastered to his chest. She watched his chest heaving from the adrenaline and excitement from the act they just committed. 

“Sansa, we need to keep moving. You have to get cleaned up before-” Baelish wasn't able to finish his words because Sansa pushed him up against the wall. He smirked, always enjoying the fierceness that he saw in her. She dragged her nails down his chest, slowly kissing his chest following her nails. She needed to feel him, all of him in order to make sure that she was real. The reality of Joffrey's death was slowly sinking in but in many ways it was still a fantasy. She need to feel what was real and she knew that Baelish's devotion was real. 

Sansa pushed herself up against him, his coat hung around her shoulders pressing against his chest. The tunic was slightly open and Sansa moved her hand inside, against his skin. When the opening of the tunic ended, Sansa found that she was impatient and torn the fabric down the middle. The sound of ripping filled the hall and she quickly started to run her hands through the hair on her husband’s his chest. Her eyes glanced up and saw the smug look on Baelish's face. He was enjoying her assault. 

He placed his hands on her hips and pulled her as close to him as he could. As she looked at him she realized the emotions coursing through her overtook the numbness. These emotions were brought out by her husband and the thought that they had killed the man who ruined her life not even an hour prior, caused her arousal to be heightened. She attached her lips to his collarbone and nipped at his skin with her teeth. Baelish groaned as her lips went lower. Her nails were ahead of her lips and made their way down toward the laces that held his trousers together. As her lips went lower, her knees hit the stone floor. Her hands made quick work of the laces and she opened the trousers.

Baelish's member sprang forward and Sansa gripped it lightly. Baelish hissed as she stroked his member up and down, cradling his sack as she went. She leaned in closer and kissed the tip of him. She held his sack as she took him deeply into her mouth; swirling her tongue around him. His hands went to her red hair and tangled his fingers in her curls. His head leaned against the red stone and his eyes flickered closed. He bit his lip and enjoyed feeling his wife's hot mouth on his member. Before he was able to release himself in her mouth, Sansa pulled out and dragged her lips back up his chest. 

When she stood in front of him, Baelish had a scolding look on his face but Sansa gave him a teasing giggle. He reached out but Sansa took his hands and pinned them above his head. She gave him a wicked grin and kissed him on the lips. Their tongues mingled together and Baelish tasted himself on her lips. While he had other woman on their knees in front of him in the past, before Sansa had come into his life, he had never kissed them on the lips. He never touched the women in his employ but that didn't mean that noble women who wanted something from him and were willing to do anything in order to get it hadn’t come through his solarium. However, Sansa was different. Tasting himself on her lips made him feel as though she was really devoted to him and the though caused him to become far more aroused. 

“We really should get back.” He whispered but made no motion to move. Sansa grinned at him and tightened her grip on his wrists. He knew that she had no intention to let him go, if that was her plan, she would have let him come in her mouth, however, she didn't. Instead she took control of the situation, much in the way she had taken control back in Joffrey's chamber. Seeing her with such power, aroused him to no end.

“Not yet. I'm not done with you yet.”

“Then lets makes this quick.” Baelish pushed off the wall and took her into his arms. He kissed her passionately before pressing her back against the stone. His hands moved up her side and touched the dress that was inside his coat. His hands moved up her side, bunching the dress as he went. Joffrey's dried blood was between them and the two of them found immense satisfaction at that knowledge.

“You're never quick.” Sansa stated in a breathless moan. He grabbed her thigh and holstered it around his hip, his body holding hers against the wall. He pushed her dress up farther and farther around her hips. With his free hand he held himself and positioned himself at her entrance. He sank into her, feeling her warmth surround him and as he stretched her, Sansa realized that this was the connection that she needed. She needed to feel him to edge away any negative feeling she had for taking a life. 

Baelish thrust in and out of her, making her body shake as he pounded. The back of Sansa's head hit the stone as she arched into him. She cried out Baelish's name, not caring that her voice echoed down the corridor halls. They could easily be found but she didn't care at this point. The coat and her husband would cover the blood for view. If she wrapped it around him she knew that no one would suspect what secret lay beneath the fabric. 

“Petyr! Oh seven gods! Don't stop.” Her hands reached above her, attempting to grip the stone behind her. Her legs spread wider, hoping to give Baelish more access. She could feel the gentle breeze on her bare legs but the cold didn't faze her, much like the gnawing numbness inside of her. All she could feel was the pulsing pleasure that was bubbling inside of her. 

“You like that don't you?” Baelish's hand trailed down to her center and touched her clit. Her hips jerked and her back arched as he began to rub it. His finger worked on her at the same pace as his hips. His hot lips latched onto her pulse point and sucked, leaving a mark. He knew that he would leave a bruise for her to proudly wear in the morning. He pulled away from her neck and moved to her ear as he continued to pound inside of her. “You like it when I pound you and when I touch you. You liked to be fucked, don't you?” 

“Yes. Only by you. Only you can fuck me.” Her voice was breathless and the words came out as a whimper. She could feel that pressure building inside of her and she felt it explode inside of her quickly. Baelish froze and Sansa saw his jaw slacked with his eyes closed. Once his seed filled her completely, he relaxed and rested his head on her shoulder. Sansa felt her limbs sink and her arms wrap around him. Her voice was breathless and tired. “Only you. It's only ever you.” 

Their moment of peace only lasted a second before they heard footsteps. Baelish pulled away from her quickly and gripped the openings of his coat, pulling it closed. He quickly fastened it up, hiding her dress and the blood staining it. The footsteps grew louder as Baelish attempted to lace up his trousers and Sansa tried to make herself appear presentable. Her heart was thumping and fear was sinking in. It wasn't the thought of being caught having marital relations with her husband but the thought of being caught being involved with the King's murder was terrifying. The last thing she wanted was to be executed and never to see her child born. The risks weighted on her now but it was worth it; for the chance for her child to live in a world were Joffrey was not King.

The figure came into view, Tommen. The younger teenaged boy paused in his tracks with wide eyes. Sansa looked at him and he appeared to be a reflection of his brother. The memory of Joffrey's lifeless eyes plagued her and she knew that those eyes would haunt her. Her emotions were shifting continuously inside of her. She went from feeling nothing, to desire, to warmth and safety to guilt. It wasn't guilt because of the crime she committed but rather the pain Tommen was suffering and would continue to feel. 

Sansa knew that Tommen hated his brother for the damage he had done to Margaery. The young prince loved his brother's wife and was most likely imagining the acts that his brother was doing to the woman he loved. The pain must be deep, especially since Margaery had taken Tommen to bed. She was playing with his emotions but Sansa thought that Tommen would make a far better match for Margaery because he would do anything to please her. He would worship the ground she walked upon and Margaery could manipulate that. Margaery had a soft spot for those who were suffering in Westeros and upon her command, Tommen would see each and every one of them clothed and fed. While Sansa is not out to save Westeros, she could see that with Tommen as King and Margaery as his Queen, the Kingdom could be a far better place. 

“My prince, we didn't expect you in this part of the castle.” Baelish replied in a smooth manner while Sansa attempted to look bashful. The young prince knew exactly what they had been doing and had the decency to look away. While the only times Sansa had seen him was when he was looking adorning at Margaery or with a look a pure fury upon his face that was directed at his brother, in this moment Sansa saw a new side to the young prince. He was a decent and kind boy. It baffled that something so gentle could have been born of incest between Jaime and Cersei. 

“I was just out for a stroll. I heard voices... I should have realized...” He blushed slightly as Sansa tightened the coat around her body. While she and her husband knew that it was to hide the blood stained dress underneath, Tommen took it as though she was attempting to hide her body from a man who was not her husband. “I apologize. I'll leave you alone.” 

While she hid behind her husband's shoulder, she couldn't help but look at him. The guilt surfaced slightly but not because of what she had done, the pain Tommen has been suffering because of their agenda. He really did love Margaery and in his mind, the woman he loved was currently in bed with his brother. He was imagining the life he would have to endure, watching her being beaten by his brother, the King and knowing that there was nothing she would be able to do about it. 

To her, Tommen had been nothing more than a piece in their game. The idea of Margaery toying with his affections was nothing more than a move. However with him standing in front of her she realized how the last few months must have been for him. Watching her being beaten and bruised; which must have been torture for him. She suddenly realized that Joffrey's death would be a gift for him. Not only will he be able to be with the woman he romanticized for so long, but would also get to be the hero of his own love story. Not to mention that he would be King, a King easily manipulated by Margaery who would listen to what Sansa whispered in her ear. 

“Are you alright?” Sansa stepped around Baelish, knowing that the coat was perfectly in place. The guilt was gnawing at her and she felt as though there something she should say. She wanted to reach out and place her hand on his shoulder. She felt personally responsible for his pain. She wanted to ease that pain and tell him that his future was about look far brighter. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“No. No. I'm perfectly alright.” Tommen looked down to the stone floor. His hands were hiding inside his pockets that were on each side of his coat. Sansa turned when she felt Baelish's hands on the side of her arms. The look he gave her spoke volumes. He knew exactly what she was thinking and how she was feeling. It almost unnerved her how far he could look inside her and see everything she hid away. She had worked so hard to hide her true self from those around her, making them all believe that she was still some naive innocent girl, and yet from the moment Baelish laid eyes on her, he knew who she really was. 

“You know Margaery has talked about you, about how fond she is of you. It was like she was torn about something, she never said what. When it came down to it I know that you have become her closest confidant.” Sansa stepped forward, moving out of his grasps, and toward the prince. “She is going to need a friend in this. Someone she can lean on and trust. You were born into this, she wasn't. Help her.” Tommen nodded and turned away from her. He walked away but would look over his shoulder back at them. 

Baelish linked their hands together and pulled her toward their chambers. They were close as they weaved through the stone halls and they soon saw the wooden door that lead to their private life. Only Arya was privy to what happened behind those doors but even she only knew what they allowed her to see. They shielded her from a good portion of their schemes because they didn't want her to be found guilty if their schemes went south. Before they reached their door, Baelish stopped and turned Sansa to stand in front of her. 

“Sweetling, talk to me. Are you all right? Not that I didn't enjoy that, back there but it was rather unexpected.” His voice was methodic and his eyes held worry in them that she rarely saw inside them. His hands reached for her face and rubbed her cheekbones. “I know this is your first and that it will take some time to process, but what you are feeling right now will get easier. I just need you to talk to me. I can't make it better if you don't talk to me. We can fuck after talking.” Sansa snorted and looked at his smirk. She reached up and took his hands, bringing them to her lips. 

“When I sent that girl who was working for us to Joffrey, I imagined how she had died, over and over again. She didn't have a face or even a name but I think of her. There is guilt inside me that I will carry for her death until I die myself. I know you have disposed of some of our whores before but I ordered that one personally.” Baelish didn't say a word but looked at her. “Before we did this tonight, I thought I would feel something but I was wrong.”

“I don't understand.” 

“I feel nothing for his death, not even happiness. Just a big gaping hole of nothing, not even relief. The only emotion is guilt but not even because I regret what I did but for those he affected. The damage he caused and the lives he ruined. I feel guilty for them. For Tommen. For Myrcella. Gods even for Cersei, may that bitch get hers.” Baelish laughed, throwing his head back before leaning in and kissing her head. “I just thought I feel something, anything but there is this black hole of nothing swelling up inside me.”

His lips paused on her forehead and Sansa could see that he was trying to find the words. Expressing his emotions verbally was not something he was very talented at. Baelish was a man whose actions spoke louder than his words and not just regarding his emotions. “When Lysa died, I thought that I would feel this triumph but instead there wasn't anything. She died and the game continued. There was no final end or relief that the woman who took everything from me was dead. Instead, I felt nothing.” Sansa looked down in both disappointment and relief. She was disappointed that he wasn't giving her the comfort she wanted to hear from him but relieved that she was not alone. “But I promise you that it gets better.” 

“Thank you.” She leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. It was a light kiss, nothing more than a peck. She linked their hands together and pulled him through a small archway and toward their chamber door. There were two guards stationed outside their door, as always, and they would not look them in the eye. They clearly had heard them. Sansa was used to embarrassment by the servants and guards because it was not the first time they had gotten physical around the castle before. Sansa leaned into Baelish as he wrapped his arms around her shoulder. She pulled the coat around her tighter as Baelish just smirked at the guards. He took great pleasure at being able to have such a beautiful woman on his arm when he so clearly ravished her and knowing that he was the only one who could touch her. 

They opened the door and let his wife pass before enter their chamber. Arya was curled up on the sofa, propped up against the arm of the chair with a book on her lap. Needle was lying on the floor but Arya was still in the dress she had worn to the wedding, making it appear as though she had been practicing on her own; dancing she called it. The younger girl got antsy when she didn't have the sword in her hand at least once a day. Once she saw her sister and brother-in-law enter the chamber, she shut the book with a snap.

“Where have you been? I've been bored out of my mind, not to mention I had to take myself back to the chamber. When you said to stay in, I didn't realize I would be alone all night.” She pushed off the sofa and crossed her arms, peering at the two of them as though she was about to give them a lecture; having picked up a few things from Catelyn in her youth. However, her features quickly turned from scolding amusement to concern. Her eyes darted between them quickly and drew a breath. “What happened?”

Sansa looked at Baelish and then stepped forward. She slowly pulled the laces apart, revealing her blood stained dress. Arya's eyes grew wide as she took in the blood. She stepped toward her sister and reached out, feeling the caked on blood. It was dry and it appeared as though Arya was fascinated by it. Baelish watched her with interest, noting how it didn't seem to repulse her.

“Joffrey is dead. We killed him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,
> 
> So what did you think?? A little post-murder smut, introducing Tommen? Baelish hinting that the game continues?
> 
> Reviews are always welcome.


	78. Chapter 78

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!! Here is Chapter 78! 
> 
> Also, I will have 79 ready tomorrow!

Chapter Seventy Eight

The bells tolled far earlier than she had thought, the deafening sounds, dark and haunting, waking the entirety of King's Landing from a dead sleep to signaling the passing of the monarch. The bells were the sound of death welcoming the Defender of the Seven Kingdoms into his cold and boney embrace. The melody was meant to be painful and heartbreaking; the kind of heartbreak that made men want to carve their hearts from their chest in hopes of causing the pain to end. Sansa never heard anything more beautiful in her life. 

Baelish had left the moment the bells sounded. Soldiers with the Lannister seal awaited him and he willing left with them. She had attempted to sleep again but her mind ran wild and found no relief as the sun rose, casting a light through the windows. She had known he was being summoned because he was a member of the small council. Despite the rational side of her mind, she couldn't help but worry that her husband was meeting his end. 

She had risen earlier than normal and didn't bother to dress as she normally would. Instead she just wrapped Baelish’s coat, the same one she had worn the night before over her white under dress. It had his smell and only a bit of dried blood on the inside; not enough to raise concern as to why there was blood on the inside the coat, if they would see it. She didn't even brush her hair, letting it hang around her waist. She curled up on the sofa, waiting. 

The baby moved inside of her. Sansa cracked a smile and placed her hand on the growing bump on her stomach. The child was more active now, especially when Baelish would place his hand on her stomach. She assumed that the child could tell that Sansa was nervous. She hated waiting for news of the fall out of Joffrey's death. She was certain that a manhunt for the mysterious murderers would begin, if it hadn’t already. It was key that they had a false sense of who those murderers really were. If someone else was being hunted then perhaps Sansa would feel slightly more comfortable. 

Arya was still asleep when the knock came. Sansa pushed herself off the sofa quickly and ran to the door, not realizing that the coat was hanging open, revealing only the light cotton dress that showed the outline of her body perfectly. The two Lannister guards each held different reactions, one appeared embarrassed while the other leered at her. Sansa scowled at the one who ogled her. She refused to turn her back and looked him directly in the eye as she laced up the coat. 

Neither spoke to her, only held out their hands and invited her forward. Sansa brought her lips together and whistled. Lady appeared at her side, instantly making the guards nervous. She moved past them with the direwolf on her heels. She walked beside the two of them in complete silence. There was an eerie ring about the Red Keep. Once the bells had been silenced, it was as though the mere act of breathing could possibly bring down the fragile structure that was holding the royal family together. She wondered if this was how it had felt after King Robert's passing. 

They reached a spiral staircase that led toward the tower of the hand; a place she had not been before. A guard went up the stairway first and the second motioned for her to follow him. Once the three of them and the direwolf reached the top, a wooden door stood ajar and the guard told her to enter. She pushed the door open and took in the room. It was quiet and mourning hung in the air. A sense of relief filled her when she saw a slightly disheveled Baelish on the sidelines, speaking in low tones with Varys. Their eyes caught and the look of desire filled his when he saw that it was his coat she was wearing. Varys caught the look between them, even though it was fleeting and couldn't help but roll his eyes. 

She pulled her eyes away from him and moved to Cersei, who was sitting on a ledge, staring out the window. It was the first time she didn't look perfect. Cersei's hair was down and tangled. She wore her sleeping attire and she held something in her hands and while Sansa couldn't see what it was, she could bet anything that it belonged to Joffrey. Jaime was by her side, trying to whisper to her but she wouldn't listen to him. Jaime just looked helpless, as though his entire world had come crumbling down. Tywin was sitting behind the desk in the center of the room. There was no grief in his aging face, he looked as if he had just been crowned King. His power had been slipping with Joffrey and now he was gone, giving Tywin back the power he coveted. Her eyes lingered on him just as he stared back at her but her gaze was torn when she heard a sob on her right. 

“Margaery!” Sansa moved across the room and toward her friend. Margaery was sitting in a wooden chair with the same black silk robe wrapped around her as the night before. Her hair was messy, pushed to the side as Olenna attempted to run her fingers through the brown locks. It was meant to be comforting but Sansa knew that it was an act and that she needed to play her part. Her bother, Loras was also by her side, attempting to give her silent comfort. Sansa bent down and took Margaery's hand in hers. The widowed queen's head perked up letting Sansa see the nasty black and blue bruise that had formed on the side of her face. Sansa felt bad for her, knowing that it was Baelish who had given it to her. “What happened?” 

“Joffrey is dead.” There was pain in her voice and disbelief. It would make anyone who didn't know how the previous night played out, believe that she actually grieved for her dead husband. Perhaps she did, perhaps Margaery regretted committing the sin of Joffrey's murder. No matter who the victim was and no matter how much he deserved it, some people were not made for the act of murder. Sansa's own feelings of numbness were still present but were overshadowed by the thoughts of the fall out. 

“What?” 

“Lady Baelish,” Tywin's voice pulled her gaze from Margaery. She stood but her friend reached out and grasped her hand tightly. Sansa looked directly at Tywin who was gazing at her as though he was searching for something. She wasn't sure exactly what he was searching for but Sansa knew it wasn't going to be pleasant. “My grandson is dead, murdered on his wedding night before he was able to consummate his marriage. As you can see, his bride was beaten by his attackers.”

“How awful.” She tried to make it believable, her voice even cracked as she attempted to hide the glee that welled up inside her when the news of Joffrey's death was spoken aloud. She looked down at Margaery has the grip lightened slightly, showing her own relief but only to her friend. The outside world could never know the secret only four of them inside that solar knew. 

“What do you know of it?” Sansa snapped her head back to Tywin with wide eyes. She wasn't expecting his accusation. She let her guard down for a brief second when she saw that Baelish was alright. She had thought for a second that they were in the clear and that no one would suspect that she killed Joffrey with her own hands; that she was the one who created the bloody mess. 

“Excuse me?” 

“I have told you Tywin, that my wife and myself had nothing to do with Joffrey's death nor any idea that he was involved.” Baelish stated with a hard stare. He made his way over to Sansa and wrapped his arms around her stomach, resting his palms on her stomach; a habit that he developed since she told him about the child. While his arms were around her, his eyes were glaring at Tywin and the older man was glaring back. Sansa wondered whose will would last longer and despite the fact that she was biased since she was married to him, she believed that Baelish would be able to glare at Tywin far longer than the older man. It was a trait she found highly attractive. 

“I find it highly suspicious that you hosted the man who is suspected of murdering the King for months and knew nothing about it. So I am asking again, what did you know of the King's death.” Tywin didn't waiver but continued to stare causing Sansa to look between the two gentleman. She didn't understand what Tywin was hinting at. 

“Petyr, what is he talking about?”

“My brother little dove.” Cersei's voice traveled from the window. She pushed herself off of the windowsill and made her way toward Baelish and Sansa. Sansa was able to take her in fully, noticing how horrible she looked. There were dark circles under her eyes and they were red and puffy. She had been crying hard. Sansa never thought that a woman who was so heartless would be heartbroken. It gave Sansa a feeling of satisfaction that she didn't realize was missing before. “My little brother is the one who did this. He killed my son!” 

“Cersei, we don't know that.” Jaime attempted to reason with her. He put his hands on her shoulders hoping to be comforting but it made Sansa nauseous. She knew that it was not a comforting gesture between siblings. It was a gesture between lovers and the thought that this was what created Joffrey, it was no wonder that he become a monster. “Tyrion loved his nephew, I can't believe that he would do this.”

“You heard him! That day! When Joffrey...” Cersei trailed off, not being able to admit that her precious son murdered Tyrion's love. It was enough to drive anyone to murder and Cersei refused to admit that Joffrey dug his own grave if Tyrion was the one behind it. He was a convenient scapegoat if this was played correctly. However, by the grip around her waist, she could tell that Baelish was not keen on the idea and neither was Varys by the look on his face. “He said he would make him pay. That when he was at his happiest, that happiness would turn to ashes in his mouth. He was murdered on his wedding night. My baby brother killed my baby.” 

“Two men killed Joffrey. You heard what Margaery said and we are trying to find them. I promise you that.” Jaime kissed her forehead causing Tywin to stand, interrupting the twins and stopping them from revealing the biggest secret that the Lannister family kept hidden; even though every knew the truth. They broke apart and everyones' eyes were upon them. “We have no proof that Tyrion was involved at all.” 

“Lady Baelish, we're waiting.” 

Before Sansa was able to speak, the door of the solar burst open and both Tommen and Myrcella entered. The two youngest Baratheon, by name only, children looked haggard and worn. Myrcella was still in her nightgown but it appeared as those she took a few moments to comb and braid her hair. Tommen looked completely disheveled with a wrinkled tunic and loosely fit trousers. He wasn't even wearing any shoes, his bare feet padding along the stone flooring. 

“Margaery!” Much like Sansa had, Tommen rushed over to the woman he had loved for so long but could never really have. Baelish pulled Sansa to the side, allowing the man who would become their king, a moment with Margaery. If everything went according to plan, Margaery would be wed to Tommen and the King would melt in her arms. He looked at her face, tracing the bruise with such gentle care. Sansa could see that he was happy with his brother's death and that this would be the last bruise Margaery would ever wear. “Are you alright?” 

“Yes. I'm fine.” 

“Lady Baelish.” Tywin pressed again.

“I had nothing to do with this.” Sansa whispered through clenched teeth. It was imperative that Tywin believed her. “I had no knowledge that he was planning anything. Tyrion, while he was welcome for a time, overstayed it. He scared our girls and made us lose gold. Why would I plan to commit treason on such a level with a man who I could barley stand? I didn't do this. I wasn't anywhere near that chamber last night.” 

“No one would have more motive than you.” Sansa stiffened in Baelish's arms. She knew that her husband would do anything to protect her and if this went south, he had plans to remove them both from the country. Her husband always had an escape plan because he planned for everything, especially the downfall of one of their schemes. “It is no secret that my grandson forced himself upon you years ago, at Winterfell. You could have been planning his murder long before you stepped foot in King's Landing.” 

“What Kind Joffrey did to me, I put it long behind me. My mother taught me to forgive. I forgave him long ago.” Half truth, half lie. It was true that her mother preached forgiveness, even though she could never forgive Ned for his supposed transgression against her. Joffrey for robbing her of her innocence was something she could never forgive even though he was dead. 

“Grandfather, Lady Baelish couldn't have done this.” Tommen stood from Margaery and looked at the Hand of the King. There was a resolve to him that Joffrey didn't have. It was a wiser understanding of life that his brother could never grasp. It was a temperament made for a King and with time, Tommen would make a wise one. Tywin moved to interrupt him but Tommen cut him off. “No, listen. There is no way Lady Baelish could have been anywhere near the King's chamber because I saw her last night, with Lord Baelish outside their own chamber. They were... preoccupied.” Tommen's face got a hint of red to his cheeks, making it clear as to what the couple had been doing.

“Is this true?” Tywin asked and Sansa could see then that the reason he was being so persistent with questioning her was because he didn't want his son to be responsible for this. No matter how much he hated him and no matter how much he resented that his son was a dwarf, he didn't want Tyrion to be the one who murdered Joffrey. It wasn't born out of love or the devotion of a father but out of the need to protect the Lannister name. The Lannister name could not handle another blemish, especially if the news of Cersei and Jamie's affair would ever come to light. 

“Is it a crime for a wife to be intimate with her husband?” Sansa reached up and pulled a couple of the laces on Baelish's coat that she was wearing apart. She opened it just enough to show the small swell of her stomach. It wasn't widely known but she knew the news that she was expecting would have to be broken as some point. “I am with child. My husband and I were celebrating. The thought of a child, well... it is something we have been hoping for, for a good long while. Now that it has finally come to pass, Petyr has a hard time keeping his hands off of me. Last night, we couldn’t wait to reach our chambers. Tommen unfortunately was walking in the corridor we occupied.”

“Neither Sansa nor Lord Baelish were there. I've told you this already!” Margaery's broken voice stated from her crouched position on the wooden chair. Tommen reached out to her again and Margaery held onto his hand as though if she let go, the entire world would crumble. Cersei saw the interaction and in her grief, couldn’t stand the idea of the only son that she had left, fall for the same women who caused the downfall of Joffrey. If Jaime had not been holding her back, Cersei might have leapt forward to strangle the woman with her bare hands. “Two men beat me, tied me up and then murdered my husband. They claimed that they were hired by Tyrion Lannister. If you want to find the man responsible for the death of your grandson, then go find that tiny monster you call a son!”

Baelish's grip tightened around Sansa's waist. He didn't appear to be surprised at the idea of Tyrion taking the fall for Joffrey's murder but it wasn't his original intent for him. He wasn't the mastermind behind that particular move and Sansa was sure that he would come up with a second plan for whatever Baelish was planing. Sansa's eyes drifted over to Olenna and the tight smile told her everything she needed to know. It was Olenna who was behind the framing of Tyrion and it was clear that she had not informed Baelish of her intentions until the last second in order to prevent him from disrupting her plans. 

“Margaery has given her statement. As you can see my granddaughter is under great duress. I want to take her back to our chambers to make sure she receives proper care.” Olenna hissed toward Tywin, who just waived his hand, agreeing to dismiss the Tyrells. Loras stood from his position and Margaery leaned into him. He took off his coat and wrapped it around her before scooping her off of her feet and carrying her out of the room. Olenna followed in elegant fashion while Tommen just watched as his love was taken out of the room. Myrcella, who remained silent so far, moved toward her brother and wrapped her arms around him. She knew what Tommen felt for Margaery and knew the agony he must feel to see Margaery in such pain. 

“As much as I hate it, the whore is right.” Cersei whispered. Tommen hissed at his mother, reprimanding her for calling the woman he loved a whore. Cersei just looked at her son, not having the energy to correct him. She walked over to her father's desk and leaned over it. Tywin brought his hand to his brow as though he was attempting to re-leave himself of a headache. “Sansa would not be able to do such a thing. She doesn't have it in her and the longer you waste with questioning her, Tyrion gets away with killing my son.” 

Silence filled the room as father and daughter stared at each other. It was best if Sansa and Baelish fell back into the shadows, letting Cersei's blind hatred for Tyrion cover their tracks. While the rest of them were focused on Tywin, Varys moved away from his corner and over toward Baelish who was holding Sansa to his chest. Varys, whose features seemed unfazed, wore a stiff posture and there was a harshness in his eyes that Sansa hadn't seen before. 

“Father you know that Tyrion couldn't have done this.” Jaime pleaded. If Sansa didn't know that Jaime was involved in pushing Bran out the window in that broken tower, she might have felt remorse for his grief. However, watching the pain run across his face at the thought of his brother being blamed for a crime he didn't commit was oddly satisfying. All of this was a reaction of the push Jaime and Cersei gave all those years ago. If Bran had lived, everything would have been completely different. Jaime set up Tyrion's downfall even if he didn't realize it. “Father. Please.” 

“Send the Gold Cloaks. Arrest him. He is charged with the murder of the King.” Tywin's command held a formality in it that caused no one to question it. Jaime was furious as he turned on his heels and fled the solar. Cersei's shoulders sank in relief and sat down in a chair that was positioned on the other side of the wooden desk. Tommen moved and knelt in front of his mother, forgiving her for her earlier outburst and Myrcella placed her hands on Cersei's shoulders in comfort. “Out. I want to hear no more of this.” 

“Thank you father.” Cersei reached across the desk and took Tywin's free hand into hers. It was a gesture that she was used to doing in order to get her way. It worked on many and Sansa had to admit that at one point, it had worked on her. The Old Sansa adored the Queen but now she saw through her act, as did her father. He quickly pulled his hand from her grasp. It appeared that Tywin was one of the few people Cersei knew she couldn't fully manipulate. Then again, Cersei thought herself to be far more intelligent than she actually was. 

“I thought I told you to leave.” His tone was harsh but it wasn't completely directed at her. Baelish nodded and placed his hand on the small of Sansa's back. She turned and saw that Varys still wore that displeased look upon his face. The moment Tywin turned away, Varys placed a hand on Baelish's shoulder and brought his lips to his ear. If Sansa hadn't been in such close contact with them, she never would have been able to hear the words Varys spoke.

“What have you done my friend? This was not in the arrangement.” It was quick and if no one was watching, it would have been missed. As Baelish pulled Sansa out of the solar, she looked over her shoulder one last time. Varys was following them and Tywin was now standing, looking out the window. Cersei was sobbing again and Tommen was attempting to be comforting. Myrcella however was watching Sansa. There was something in Myrcella's eyes that told Sansa that the princess didn't believe that her uncle wasn't responsible for Joffrey's death. Her eyes told Sansa everything she needed to know. Myrcella knew the truth, it wasn't concrete but she was able to overlook her mother's grief to see the truth and to see the darkness that now lied deep within Sansa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, a couple things with this chapter;
> 
> 1) I felt that Tywin would not fully believe that Tyrion killed Joffrey. Out of everyone I felt Tywin would suspect the right people, and possibly even still believes that Sansa was involved even after he ordered the arrest of his youngest son. However, he knew that Joffrey was hard to control and that Tommen would be easier to manipulate. 
> 
> 2) No, Petyr did not have a hand in framing Tyrion. Did he know about it before hand? Yes. Of course. He knew that they were going to have to frame someone but Petyr wanted someone else. Why? Can't tell you that but Tyrion is important to the end game. I won't say why and what happens may point to the opposite BUT I have reasons for my madness. 
> 
> 3) Next: Anyone notice my love of canon?? 
> 
> I'm curious as to what you guys think the end game is?


	79. Chapter 79

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my awesome Beta Cris edited this chapter before 78 by accident. So, you guys are getting two chapters in close secession! Enjoy!

Chapter Seventy Nine

The Silent Sisters toiled, performing their usual death rituals, starting with the ceremonial dressing of the late King in honor of the Stranger. The Silent Sisters took their religious vows to the point that would make most seem like fanatics. They hid their beauty from the outside world and would never know the touch of a man. Many of the women who now worked over the dead King were no better than her, having committed crimes heinous to warrant execution. Yet, like when a man raped a woman and was sent to the wall to pay for his crimes, women who commit such crimes were forced to take the vow of celibacy and silence. The vows of the Silent Sisters were nothing more than a punishment warranted for those who could not stand the thought of execution.

Each sister held a thurible, a metal censer suspended from silver chains that held strong incense. The smoke emitting from the thurible was thick making the room hazy. It was difficult to see though the smoke but Sansa could glimpse the flicker of candles positioned around the Great Sept. As was custom, the King was to be buried inside the Sept as were all the kings, except for the late King Robert who demanded to be buried at his ancestral home, Storms End.

Seeing how this was the funeral and ceremonial goodbye of a King, Sansa couldn't help but wonder how she would end. It was custom for Starks to be buried in the catacombs of Winterfell. Both Rob and Ned had been sent there for proper burial and she knew Luwin had made sure that Catelyn and Rickon were given the same treatment. Part of her wanted to have her lifeless body buried beneath the cold stone she had called her home with her likeness carved in stone for all eternity. However, the desire to rest beside Baelish was stronger and she knew that he would never want to be buried there; he would want his legacy to remain at Harrenhal. Seeing that they were the first to make Harrenhal to be great again, she made a note to have catacombs put under Harrenhal in order to keep that Stark tradition alive. Baelish and she could rest in the same fashion as her family but under the estate they would call home.

The one thing she was certain of was that she would never want these women preparing her body. She would make sure that the Silent Sisters would never touch her once she has died. Sansa felt a chill travel up her spine as the sisters passed her on their way out the Sept, once their work was done. A small ray of light shone in the darkness as the heavy doors of the Sept opened and closed. Sansa made her way down the stone steps and over to the altar where Joffrey's body rested. She wanted to look at him one last time before anyone else came and her mask had to be perfectly in place. She knew that his family, his mother specifically wouldn't wait too long once the sisters were done with him.

There were stones over his eyes with blue eyes painted on them; they were to be the eyes of the Stranger looking back at them. He was dressed elegantly with robes fit for no one less than a King. He was beautiful and perfect, but there was nothing left of him; nothing at all. Looking at him lying there with no emotion on his face reminded her of the first time she had seen him, riding that horse through the gates of Winterfell; she had never seen anyone so beautiful before. She had thought that she found her knight in shining armor. She had thought that he was the prince the songs sang about and that he would turn her dull life into a fairytale. Now, years later after she had learned how cold the world was, she stood over his body, having beat him at his own game. Sansa felt a string of victory at that.

“I won Joffrey. I won.”

Sansa heard a pair of heels hitting the stone floor and turned to look over her shoulder. She wasn't surprised to see Cersei walking towards her. She had known that she wouldn't have long to be alone with Joffrey and she felt a hint of regret in that. Joffrey being dead was the only time she had ever wanted to be alone with him since the night he raped her. Sansa took in her appearance as Cersei made her way toward the alter. Her dress was all black, shoulders bare. Her long golden hair was piled on top of her head with two braids hanging around her shoulders. A gaudy necklace rested on her pale collarbone. She was gorgeous and the perfect symbol of mourning.

“Your Grace.” Sansa greeted her, giving a small bow when Cersei stood beside her. Looking at her Sansa could see the pain reflected in her eyes. There were dark circles under her eyes betraying her lack of sleep since her son's body had been found. There were creases in her face that had not been there before. Joffrey's death wounded her far more than Sansa could ever imagine and it caused joy to well up inside of Sansa. Cersei was involved in the death of her brother and in return, Sansa killed her son. It almost made Sansa think that they were even but she wasn't ready to rest just yet.

“Little Dove. I didn't expect to find you here.” Her voice was hoarse and cracking; filled with grief. Cersei wanted a moment alone with her son and Sansa wasn't going to give it to her unless she was directly asked. There were moments when Cersei was able to glimpse the intelligence that lingered behind Sansa's mask but the older woman still saw Sansa as a naive child. It was a ruse that Sansa wanted to keep going, knowing that Cersei would assume nothing if she had ask permission to be alone with her son. It wasn't much but it gave Sansa a small amount of power.

“I wanted a moment alone with him. To say goodbye.” It wasn't a lie. She was telling the truth, she wanted to say goodbye but not out of affection, just a moment to gloat about her victory. She had lived while he went to his grave early, terrified with no one to turn to. He died knowing the fear she had felt that night in the Godswood. While her emotions were still running back and forth between the acts she committed, she was pleased that he was dead. “We had known each other for so long that it feels strange to think that he is gone.”

“Yes. It is.” Cersei paused. Since the moment she entered the sept, she hadn't taken her eyes off her son but she pulled the away to take in Sansa's appearance, searching to see if she truly meant the words that she spoke. The gentle smile Cersei gave Sansa told her that she couldn't see beyond the person Sana pretended to be for the court. “You would have been good for him, you know. You knew how to hold him back. When you asked for Lady Greyjoy's head I knew you didn't mean it. You would have made an excellent Queen and you would have held him back.”

“Thank you.” Her gratitude meant nothing. She didn't mean it because she knew that if she had married Joffrey, he would have killed her before the end of their first year of marriage. She looked down at his lifeless face and remembered how the life drained out of his eyes. She admired how clean he was now, the blood having been completely washed from him. She had made a mess of him and she wondered if Cersei had seen him in such a state or if he had been cleaned before she was allowed to lay eyes on her son. Sansa looked up and saw that Cersei was looking at her again. “I'm sorry, did you say something? I was lost in thought.”

“It’s sweet to see your devotion to him. Even after everything that had happened.” Cersei stated and Sansa had to hold back everything it took for her not to cringe. She gave her a gentle smile and looked back down at Joffrey. “He regretted everything. He must have. He was such a sweet boy when he was born. Always so happy. Sometimes I can't imagine how he became this way.” She touched his face gently, in a loving manner. “He was all I had at one point.”

“I loved him. I loved him more than you could ever know.” It was true. The Old Sansa worshiped the ground Joffrey walked on. She was excited at the thought of becoming his Queen and she would have done anything for him. She would have become anyone he wanted if he had given her the chance. If she hadn’t seen the monster inside of him, Sansa wondered how long it would have taken her to realize who he really was. Would she have become the woman was now if she had married him or would she have become a shell, hiding in the shadows hoping not to anger the beast. “I would have done anything for him. I would have given him anything, willingly if he just asked.”

“I wish I could say the same for him.” Cersei desired to have Sansa as a daughter in law more than Joffrey wanted her as a wife. To him, Sansa was nothing more than a toy that had been taken away. He was bound to have her before anyone else. “I'm sorry for what he did to you. I never thought he was capable of such things. It was only the beginning of course. He committed such heinous crimes. I was his mother and the things he did, scared me.”

“I know. We've had this discussion before.” Their eyes locked, both traveling back to her chambers in Winterfell. Her broken body lay upon the furs and the Queen came to offer her comfort. Cersei held her hand and told her that she needed to use this as a lesson. To use the weapon between her legs and make men bend to her will. It was meant to be comfort but it did nothing more except make her feel dirty and unwanted. The only gift Cersei gave her was keeping the secret until they left the North. Sansa’s mind drifted to the reason she was standing in that Sept. Joffrey caused everything to fall apart for her and she needed to see him pay. She needed to revel in his death until she grew bored of it. “I learned a lesson that day.”

“And you have used it well.” Sansa looked down and smiled. She moved away from Cersei, making her way to the other side of the altar. She traced the edges of the stone with her fingertips, careful not to touch any part of Joffrey. Despite the anger and physical abuse she displayed towards him merely two days before, she couldn’t bear to touch him even now. Once she reached the other side, it appeared that Joffrey looked the same. She wanted to see him from every angle almost as though she needed to remind herself that he really was dead and could no longer torment her. “It is a pity that those gifts are wasted on Littlefinger.”

“What?” Sansa lifted her head, completely forgetting that Cersei was there with her. She had been lost in Joffrey’s lifeless face that she almost let the mask slip away from her. Cersei looked down at her son again and ran her hands over his golden hair. It appeared to Cersei that Sansa was grieving the loss of her King and her first love which would explain why she was distracted. One of Cersei’s many faults was that she could never really see what was directly in front of her. “I’m sorry your Grace, it appears that my attention is hard to keep today.”

“It’s understandable. I feel the same.” Cersei continued to stroke Joffrey’s hair as though he was merely sleeping. “I was just saying that a girl of your beauty and standing was wasted on a man such as Petyr Baelish. You deserve so much better. I thought Robert was mad when he consented to the match even if he was furious with your father for breaking the engagement between you and Joffrey. Truth be told I was too.”

“My husband and I are quite fond of each other.” Sansa felt the need to express how loyal she was to her husband and he to her. She knew that Cersei had a bitter look at the concept of marriage, seeing that hers had been an utter failure. Cersei could not understand how anyone could be happy in a marriage and anyone tied to Baelish would have to be miserable. 

“For now. I was fond of Robert once, in the very beginning. He was so handsome and I was the most beautiful woman in all of Westeros. He was lucky to have me but I wasn’t who he wanted. I wasn’t her.” There was a bitter tone that Sansa knew was as old as Cersei’s marriage. This woman was haunted by the memory of Lyanna Stark and Sansa felt a hint of pride in that. Her family caused Cersei pain long before she was ever born and would continue to do so until the day she died. “The only good that came from my marriage were my children. I hope your child is a gift to you as mine were to me.”

The truth was on the tip of Sansa’s tongue. She wanted to say that nothing came out of the marriage between Cersei and Robert because her three children did not belong to Robert. It was a pretense that she held in place for so long that it was almost second nature. She didn’t know that Sansa knew the truth behind Cersei’s incestuous affair. If Sansa even uttered a hint that she knew the truth, she knew that she would be executed quickly. Or perhaps they would cut out her tongue and force her to take the vow of celibacy and silence. Briefly, Sansa wondered what secrets the Sisters held. 

“They will be.” Sansa replied and placed her hand on her growing stomach. She didn’t attempt to hide it with fabric and dresses. She allowed her stomach to show and present to the world that she was doing her duty and giving her husband an heir. While the thought of being a mother terrified her, Sansa was no longer terrified that her child would be used as a pawn against her. Joffrey was dead and the new King had a gentle heart; Tommen would never be able to use a child in order to achieve some political gain nor for some twisted amusement. “I will love any child I have and I will protect them from whoever wants to harm them.”

“As it should be.” 

The door to the Sept had remained open, shining a light through it and into the dark chamber. Sansa looked away from the Queen Mother when she saw a shadow appear in the light. She couldn’t see who it was but moved closer. She could hear the sound of footsteps coming closer. Cersei didn’t move her eyes from her son but Sansa could see her shoulders relax, as though she had heard those steps a thousand times and drew comfort from them. 

The shadow belonged to Jaime. His handsome looks contrasted against the black. There were no tears or dark circles under his eyes. If it weren’t for the dark clothing, Sansa would have never guessed that he was in mourning. The loss of his son, whether he acknowledged him or not, should cause some kind of emotion in him but Sansa saw nothing. He was either hiding his grief very well or he felt nothing at all for the late King. Sansa found his disinterest interesting. It was clear that he sympathized with Cersei but the loss of Joffrey possibly meant nothing. Her mind flashed back to when Joffrey murdered Shae and how Jaime protected Myrcella from Joffrey. While he may feel nothing but contempt of his eldest child, he loved his daughter and it didn’t take much for Sansa to imagine that the affection stretched toward Tommen as well. 

The Kingslayer placed his hands on Cersei’s shoulders and squeezed them. Cersei’s hand moved to the top of Jaime’s, searching for comfort. If Sansa didn’t know the truth behind their relationship, she would have thought it was sweet how they relied on each other; she could easily compare their relationship to the bond she shares with Arya. However, the relationship was far less innocent and far darker. 

“I can’t believe he is gone.” Cersei leaned into Jaime as tears began to flow freely down her perfect cheekbones. While his sister and lover began to fall apart, Jaime remained still as a statue. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her up because if he let go, Cersei might fall to the ground and allow the grief to overcome her. Jaime looked at the body again and Sansa could see the faint perk of his lips, almost as though he wanted to smile. It only confirmed Sansa suspicions that Jaime felt no tender regard for his son. 

“Neither can I.” Jaime pulled his eyes away from Joffrey and rested them on Sansa. While Cersei still believed her to be this innocent and naive young girl, Jaime saw right through her. He didn’t suspect her of being involved with his murder but he knew she was far more intelligent than she pretended to be. Jaime’s issue was that he didn’t believe that Baelish or his wife held any type of power and underestimated them. “Lady Baelish, would you mind if my sister and I had a moment alone with my nephew?” 

“Yes. Of course.” Sansa looked down at Joffrey one last time before leaving. She wanted to reach out and touch him but found that she wasn’t able to touch the cold body. It was as though a force was holding her back; if she touched him, something horrible would happen, like Joffrey would open his eyes and truly be alive. Instead of touching him, Sansa placed her hand on a part of the stone again and traced it with her fingertips. She moved around the altar, her eyes never leaving the corpse. “I’m sorry for your loss.” 

“Thank you.” Jamie replied and Sansa nodded her head. She turned away from them, taking deliberately slow steps toward the exit. She listened to her footsteps as her boots hit the stone. Sansa looked over her shoulder and saw Jaime and Cersei in an embrace. From a distance, it looked innocent and even for those who did not know the truth might think it was nothing more than the affection between siblings. However, the kiss Jaime placed on Cersei's forehead was that of a lover and not a brother. 

It appeared as though they had never been separated at all. When Tywin had learned of his children's affair and his grandchildren's true parentage, he worked quickly to separate them. He practically banished Jaime to Casterly Rock while he watched every communication that went between the two of them. His next step was to secure a bride for Jaime and the next mistress of Casterly Rock. It was the main reason why Sybell took Tywin as a lover because it secured her daughter's future. However, once Jeyne committed suicide, Sybell was without a purpose and Tywin was once again looking for an eligible virgin for his son to marry. The delay in his wedding suited Jaime just fine and he was doing everything he could to prevent taking marital vows with some faceless girl. 

While Sansa never paid particular attention to the Kingslayer, she knew his focus lay with his devotion to Cersei. Jaime would have made a wonderful husband to any woman if he weren’t so blinded by his love for his sister. Cersei didn't deserve such devotion. Jaime pushed Bran out a broken tower in order to hide their secret. She hated him for it, certainly but the hatred for Cersei ran far deeper. Jaime would pay for his sins but it wasn't a priority as of yet. She figured when Cersei's time came, perhaps seeing the destruction of his beloved would be vengeance enough. Jaime may have physically pushed Bran but it had Cersei's making written all over it. 

Once Sansa reached the open door, she saw something out of the corner of her eye. Sansa looked up and noticed that she had not been alone with Cersei has she had thought. On the balcony high above the Sept she saw someone. The room was dark and she couldn't make out a face, only that a figure was watching her from the shadows. The feeling set her on edge, knowing that it wasn't a guard on Baelish's orders that was keeping an eye on her. Someone was watching her but the moved deeper into the shadows once it realized it had been spotted. 

Sansa quickly went through the doorway, hoping to escape whomever was watching her. Once she was in the light and the smoke from the incense dissipated from her senses, her mind began to run wild as to who would want to keep any eye on her. While she knew that her husband had many enemies, the irrational side of her couldn't help but wonder if it was Joffrey coming to haunt her. She had never been superstitious but she couldn't help but imagine his bitter ghost coming to lay claim to her. 

Her father had taken many lives for the honor of being Warden of the North and Sansa knew that she would follow in his footsteps, unable to keep her hands clean. She always saw that haunted look on his face after he had swung his sword down, beheading a deserter or rebel. She wondered if he ever felt as though the ghost of the men he killed stalked him. When she had ordered that faceless girl to be sent to Joffrey, she dreamed about her but never before had she felt as though she was being haunted. 

“He's dead Sansa. You killed him and he isn't coming back. You're being foolish.” Sansa whispered to herself and closed her eyes. She let herself feel the rays of the sun on her face as she convinced herself that it was nothing more than a Lannister guard watching over the body of the King. That was all it could be. She kept repeating those words to herself in her head when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned around quickly to find Baelish standing behind her. “Gods! You scared me!” 

“Are you alright?” 

“Yes. Yes. I'm fine.” Her heartbeat was still running wild, pounding against her chest. She placed her head against chest and his arms went around her, comforting her. She kissed the fabric of his chest once she was able to calm her heart and gain her senses back. “Were you on the balcony? Just now? Watching Cersei and I?” 

“No. Why?”

“Because someone was.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think it's to much of a mystery as to who is watching Sansa on the balcony. I also wanted a final goodbye between Joffrey and Sansa. While killing Joffrey didn't give her the release and closure she had thought, the idea of beating him and being victorious is exciting for her.


	80. Chapter 80

Chapter Eighty

There was talk of nothing else. The court was abuzz with such scandal, they could hardly contain themselves. Whispers of the King's murder and the arrest of the Imp traveled quickly. Each version of the story grew wilder and longer. Neither Sansa nor her husband did anything to prevent it. As long as the focus was not on them, neither minded that Joffrey’s murder was the topic of conversation. Tyrion was highly linked because he was arrested by the Gold Cloaks he used to command and dragged publicly through the Red Keep to the dungeons. It was another stain on the Lannister name that Tywin was furious about.

Tywin had wanted nothing more than to have his son’s arrest kept quiet, not because he held some deep affection for him but rather he wanted to protect his family’s name. However, Cersei made sure that her brother was humiliated beyond recognition as she was convinced he was responsible for the death of her son. In a way, Sansa could relate to such an emotion because if anyone attempted to harm the child she carried, she would burn them in eternal hellfire and that would only happen if she go to them before Baelish.

Despite the chatter that surrounded her, their voices were not what she focused on. Sansa could feel the eyes resting upon her. Ever since she noticed someone watching her when she was in the Sept with Cersei days before, her paranoia grew. Baelish kept her close, easing her fears that she was being followed and watched. She knew he said that nothing was the matter in order to calm her and protect their child, Sansa knew he was concerned. While he always had a guard keeping a close eye on her ever since Joffrey had attacked her, now it was as though there was a guard in Baelish’s pocket that was always by her side.

She searched the crowed waiting for something or someone to pop out at her. She just wanted to know who was watching her and what they wanted. She knew that it had to do with Joffrey and that someone knew her secret. How they would know was beyond her but someone knew her secret. It was unnerving to know that some unknown person had something against her that could possibly ruin everything they have worked for. She knew that Baelish was searching endlessly for someone who might want to harm his wife but he has found nothing.

She could hear whispers as they waited for the presentation. Tommen had been properly titled King of the Seven Kingdoms and since Sansa and Baelish resided in King’s Landing, they would be among the first to present themselves to him. Several families would be traveling to the Capitol in order to do the same over time but that was no consequence to Sansa. However, being presented and swearing loyalty this time felt as though it was nothing. Being forced to bow to Joffrey made her feel worthless. She remembered scrubbing her body but she could never get the essence of him off of her. She eliminated that feeling now and Tommen was a far more stable King and far easier to control.

The sound of the trumpets pulled Sansa out of her thoughts. She looked around and saw the eyes of those behind her and yet none of them focused on her. They were all watching excitedly as a new King was crowned. Sansa dug her nails into her husband’s arm, knowing that she was nervous but not because she would be facing the new King. Arya was behind her, being presented along with them but had a faraway look upon her face. This presentation brought back memories of the last time she bowed to a King, when most of her family was alive. Her attention was dragged back to the present when the wooden doors began to open, revealing them to the court.

“Lord Petyr of House Baelish of Harrenhal with his wife, Lady Sansa of House Baelish, Wardeness of the North and their Ward, Arya of House Stark.” Sansa felt herself being moved forward, Baelish leaving her with his arms linked with hers. Arya trailed behind them while the three direwolves followed. At first they had thought that it would be best to leave the wolves behind but decided against it. Lady was present when they bowed to Joffrey, they thought it would be a bit odd if they left them behind this time. Also, Baelish wanted Sansa and their unborn child protected at all cost. Nothing was safer than having three direwolves surrounding her, poised to attack when needed.

Walking up to the Iron Throne, she could see Tommen, looking regal and majestic, but closely surrounded by his family, Jamie behind him, Cersei on one side and Tywin on the other. It was clear to anyone who paid attention that those two were attempting to rule through him and for a brief second that worried Sansa. It was imperative that Margaery control him because it was the only way for Baelish and herself be able to control the throne.

“Your Grace” As Sansa’s knees sank to the floor, bowing to the new King, she took in the Lannisters and noticed that while they pretended to be a united front, she could see right through their facade. Tywin, while whispering in his grandson’s ear, was angled away from the rest of them. His eyes would glare at his daughter, still obviously furious with her actions in regards to Tyrion. Jamie’s nails dug into Cersei shoulder holding her back. Despite the fact that Joffrey was dead, he was still tearing his family apart. Once they stood from their curtsy, Baelish, Sansa, Arya and the wolves were ushered to the side, along with all the other families presenting themselves. People came, bowed and moved forward allowing others to present themselves to the King. Sansa kept her eyes on the throne, not paying any mind to those bowing. Tommen for his part saluted each family with care as a King should, appearing to genuinely want the best for his subjects.

Sansa was brought out of her trance when an arm slipped through hers. At first she thought it was Arya but when she turned her head Sansa was surprised to see a woman with gorgeous blond hair standing beside her. It always struck her how much Princess Myrcella looked like her mother but there was a kinder tone to her that Cersei could never achieve. Sansa had always thought she was more intelligent than her mother as well. Cersei believed that she was a big player within the court, and while she was powerful, she was also a fool. The same could not be said about her daughter. Myrcella knew when it was best to hold the cards close to her chest and when to show them. While the princess might be inexperienced in playing the game herself, she was raised in King’s Landing and she had lived and breathed the game her entire childhood.

“Lady Sansa.” Myrcella whispered. Baelish turned his head, able to hear her from the short distance he was standing. Neither Sansa nor Baelish made a motion to indicate that he could hear them. Myrcella appeared to be calm and collected. The court would think nothing of the princess seeking comfort from Sansa because from all appearances, they were friends. “I know it was you.”

“What?” Sansa’s head snapped toward her. She was taken off guard and she could feel Baelish stiffen beside her. Realization hit her, Myrcella was the one who was following and watching her. She was the one who had been standing on the balcony while Sansa toyed with her mother, why? Sansa knew that Myrcella was not particularly close with her brother but that did not mean that she would take kindly to someone she called a friend killing him. “What are you saying?”

“The other day when we were all in my grandfather's solar, I could see it in your eyes.” A man passed them and Myrcella gave an angelic smile, as though nothing was wrong. Sansa realized that she was a master at faking comfort even if she was in distress. Baelish turned his head to see her more clearly, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I see the act you put on for the court and for my family; you play the innocent and naive girl who was sold off by her parents in order to pay their taxes. Yet, when you stood up there and asked for Lady Greyjoy's head, I saw a different part of you. My mother did as well but she didn't see the darkness, blinded by the child she had met years ago. She can't see that it is nothing more than a mask to hide behind in order to play this game. The court was surprised by your actions but thought being married to Lord Baelish must have corrupted you. Yet, I know it was my brother who made you into who you are.”

“Myrcella-”

“Don't.” Myrcella held up her pointer finger, silencing Sansa. “I know who my brother was. I know things he did. I even know some of the girls he killed. My uncle's lover wasn't the only maid he killed.” A brief memory of Margaery telling Sansa how she watched Joffrey beat a girl who refused him to death surfaced. Sansa never knew that the girl was in Myrcella's employ. “I loved him because he was my brother but I hated the man he turned into.” She laughed lightly and gave a tiny smile as though she was remembering something. “There was this guard when I was younger. He had a fancy for little girls, if you understand my meaning.”

“I do. Perfectly.” Sansa knew exactly what she meant because Baelish and she often catered to many men who preferred younger girls. She tried not to think of it because she saw what the young girls were like after their guest left. They were beaten but more damaged emotionally than physically. Sansa could relate to them on a deeper level than her husband would ever be able to. Despite how hard she tried to distance herself from them, Sansa always made sure that they were paid handsomely.

“Joffrey learned that the guard snuck into my chamber one night.” Myrcella looked down at her feet, ashamed of the memory. “I never told anyone but Joffrey overheard the guard boasting and what he did to that man was far worse than it would have been if he would have been charged for harming me. Joffrey promised never to speak of it and he never did. My mother doesn't know, neither does my father ...and King Robert never learned of it either.” They shared a look of understanding, both had been abused and harmed. They had both trusted Joffrey for the rare moment of kindness but those moments were fleeting.

“I loved him once. I really did but there are some things you can't forgive. I will never get my innocence back.” She wouldn't bite at the knowledge of incest. While she found it was surprising that Myrcella knew about her true parentage, she also knew that the princess was testing her. It wasn't a test she was going to take willingly. “But no manner of kindness that he felt like showing made up for the evil inside of him.” Sansa gave a bitter laugh as she watched another family bow. “What do you want? To have me executed, and my husband? If that is what you want, you have enough leverage to do so, so why tell me and no go straight to your brother and your grandfather?” 

“I don't want you killed. Despite the fact that you killed my brother I rather enjoy your company. Your husband not so much but then again I'm not a fan of men who sell little girls. I sure you can understand why. But I am willing to look past him because you are a friend. How long you stay a friend is another matter entirely.” Blackmail. Myrcella wanted something from her and if she didn't get it, she would sell them both out. While she wanted nothing more than to grow old with her husband, her main concern was the child that grew inside of her. They had a conversation not long after she revealed her pregnancy that their main concern were to be their children, even if it meant sacrificing each other.

“Then what is that you want?”

“My uncle. He was arrested for your treason and I know the both of you are more than willing to let him die for your sins. Fix it. I want him free. I don't care how or where he goes. I just want him free.” Myrcella closed her eyes and Sansa realized that Tyrion was the only member of her family besides Tommen who showed her affection. Joffrey, despite his moment of need to protect his sister, mainly because he viewed her as a possession, was not one for brotherly affection. Her mother was cold and her biological father had to remain at arm's length in order to protect their secret. King Robert was far too busy to pay any attention to the young girl he thought was his daughter and her grandfather only viewed her as a pawn. Tommen and Tyrion were the only members of the Lannister family who actually cared about her. “Do you understand Lord and Lady Baelish?”

“Perfectly.” Baelish answered, making Myrcella turn her attention to him. Baelish wore his usual smirk on his lips. He appeared unfazed by Myrcella, as though he had some trick up his sleeve. “But you should know that Tyrion's role in the grand scheme of things does not end with his head on a spike. I can assure that if you give us enough time, I will personally make sure he is safe.”

“You have plans for him.”

“Great plans. I will make him great.”

“I will hold you to that. If you don't, I promise that I will ruin you.” Myrcella moved away from Sansa and then disappeared into the crowd. Sansa looked around , no one was paying any attention to them. All were too busy watching the crowning of a new King and judging the families who bowed. They all were too busy looking for scandal to see the games being played right in front of them.

“Lords and Ladies.” Tommen called out as the last family moved to the side. He stood tall in front of the Iron Throne. He was dressed in black in honor of his dead brother but he still had a heartwarming smile on his lips. Sansa could see that while he was participating in traditions that were as old as the Seven, Tommen didn't mourn his brother. Joffrey's death gave him everything he could ever dream of and Sansa took comfort in that thought. Bringing him happiness made killing Joffrey easier to deal with. “Can I have your attention please?”

“Tommen what are you doing?” Cersei stood but Jaime pushed her lightly back down into the chair. She seemed confused but everyone else appeared to be unsurprised by Tommen's sudden call for attention. Whatever he was planning, Cersei had purposely been left out of some meeting where Tommen's coronation was discussed. Sansa looked over to her husband and he seemed completely unsurprised, as though he knew exactly what was about to happen. “Tommen!”

“Mother, everything is alright.” Tommen attempted to appease her but knew full well that she was going to be very angry with him and their family for a good long while. “It is no secret that my family has been harmed these few days, by a member of my own family. I never thought my uncle was capable of such treason. Part of me still doesn't believe it. Be that as it may I am now your King and as King I have a responsibility to you all.” Tommen looked down at his hand before looking at the court. “My responsibilities stretch beyond the court and into the entirety of the Seven Kingdoms.”

“Is he doing what I think he is doing?” Sansa whispered to Baelish who didn't even reply. He was giving a look of approval and proud satisfaction to the new King. Sansa knew that look because she had seen it often enough, even if the rest of the world was blind to it. It was the look of complete elation and her husband only wore it when one of three things occurred. He wore it when he would place his hand upon her growing belly, knowing that their child remained safe there. He would wear it when he would release himself inside of her and felt that moment of complete ecstasy only her body could give him. Yet, as Sansa stood there she knew that none of those things had happened, meaning the look of satisfaction came from the knowledge that one of his schemes was being completed before his very eyes. Whatever Tommen had to say, Baelish somehow planted the thought there by whispering into the right ear.

“In order to protect Westeros and the people who live there, the highborn families must be untied. That is why I am proposing to continue an alliance.” Tommen held out his hand toward the crowed to the left and indicated for someone to come forward. A few people moved and allowed a woman to step forward. “May I present Margaery Baratheon, my brother's maiden widow.”

“No!” Cersei's plea echoed but her son paid her no attention. Tywin however moved from his seat and made his way around the Iron Throne. Tywin placed his hand on Cersei's shoulder and whispered in her ear, stilling her instantly. Margaery made her way toward the King, ignoring the outburst. Tommen's hand was still outstretched and Margaery placed hers into his.

“My brother was taken from her far too soon, leaving her marriage unconsummated.” Margaery blushed and Sansa thought her performance was spectacular. Sansa knew that Margaery was no innocent virgin, having been bedded by both Joffrey and Tommen; most likely having lost her maiden head long before stepping foot into King's Landing. Tommen believed that he had already stolen her virtue and was more than willing to marry her because of it. “I propose an alliance between Baratheon and Tyrell, a marriage between myself and Margaery. A united front and a Queen to protect the realm.”

Applause broke out as Tommen kissed the back of Margaery's hand. He grasped her hand tightly as though he was showing the crowed how strong their front was. Sansa was certain that Tommen believed his love for her and thought she felt the same. However, she was playing him and had been since she realized that Joffrey would not be on the throne for very long. She played the damsel in distress because of the abuse she suffered at the hands of his brother and now he got a chance to save her as the king, giving them the happy ending he believes they deserve.

Sansa turned her attention to the family standing behind Tommen. Both Jaime and Tywin had a hand on Cersei’s shoulders in order to keep her in place. If they had not been holding her back, Sansa was certain that she would have leapt forward and strangled Margaery. While she never liked Margaery before, Cersei’s hatred of the younger woman only grew since the death of her son. In her warped mind, she blamed Margaery just has much as Tyrion; which given the true circumstances, was not wrong. However, both her father and Tommen viewed Margaery as a victim of an attack that resulted in the death of the previous King and not a perpetrator to the crime. 

Seeing Cersei’s anger and despair made it difficult for Sansa not to crack a smile. While her nerves were tearing themselves up inside because Myrcella knew that Sansa was responsible for Joffrey’s death, seeing Cersei in pain made her happy. Bran’s death was the beginning of Sansa’s downward spiral of pain. If Bran had lived, perhaps Joffrey never would have had the opportunity to rape her, and thus turn her into this dark and twisted person. Cersei had a hand in murdering her brother and Sansa found that it was only right that she felt that same pain and loss that Sansa had felt several times over. 

The crowd began to disperse; some leaving the throne room while others remained behind to participate in the chatter. Cersei stood from her position beside the throne and made a hasty exit; Jaime followed her. Tommen retook his place on the throne while Margaery took the seat Cersei had been occupying, her fingers linked with Tommen’s. Baelish snapped his fingers and the three direwolves moved to leave the throne room. While the court was used to seeing them and knew that they would not harm anyone unless they were commanded to do so, most still gave them a wide and uneasy berth. Baelish placed his hand on the small of Sansa’s back and led her to follow the direwolves. She looked over her shoulder and saw that Arya had disappeared into the crowed. 

“Should we be concerned?” Sansa whispered into Baelish’s ear. He appeared at ease but Sansa knew that he was wearing his Littlefinger mask. He would nod and smile to those who passed them, trying to make it appear as though nothing was wrong but Sansa was still concerned about Myrcella and if she would actually do anything to cause them harm. “She seemed serious with her threats.” 

“No. She wants her uncle free and she will get her wish. I have no intention of him dying. He is to be used for something far more important.” The corner of his lips turned upward obviously proud of something. She knew that he was withholding his plans concerning Tyrion because he wanted her to have clean hands in this regard. It baffled her because he helped her kill the King. What could he possibly be concerned about that would be far worse than regicide if his schemes fell through? She knew that the worst case scenario was that he had a way for her, their child and Arya to leave the country if he were to be arrested and tried for treason; a treason he wanted Sansa to be able to say truthfully that she had no part in, allowing her to leave the country quickly if things did not pan out the way he hoped. What concerned Sansa was, whatever game he was playing was more dangerous than the murder of a king. “My plans for Tyrion have been in the making long before you entered my life and I’m not about to see him executed.” 

“And ensuring that Margaery stays on the throne as Queen?” They had left the throne room completely, standing on the same balcony where she had been sick after bowing to Joffrey. She had known that Tommen would want to make Margaery his Queen and that her friend had been manipulating him in order for him to fall in love with her. 

“Just part of the game Sweetling. Just part of the game.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I want to make it very clear that Mrycella no longer views Sansa as a friend here. She may say that but Myrcella is no fool. She needs Sansa in order to free her uncle and she knows how the game is played. 
> 
> Thoughts?


	81. Chapter 81

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm back.

Chapter 81

The black silk that trailed the stone floor was hypnotic, the furious movements making it difficult for Baelish to look away. He was pleased to see the anger in the motion and the more they disagreed with her, the quicker Cersei paced. Baelish was certain that the servants would be pleased that the dusting would already be done for them. 

It was like watching an angry lioness who was ready to pounce. Despite never seeing a real lion up close, Baelish could only envision the similarity. Her golden hair swayed against her back in the way he imagined a lion’s mane would flow when going in to the attack. While he knew Cersei was not as big of a threat as she imagined herself to be, when it came to her children, Baelish was no fool. If there were one thing that could cause the Queen Mother to become reckless and hostile, it would be in order to protect her children. Her recklessness could work in his favor or against him; in truth he preferred it if she was locked away, rotting in a cell but Tommen wasn’t as cruel as his brother. Tywin would also never allow his daughter to be mistreated again.

Despite the small irritations Cersei managed to cause for Baelish, she never disrupted his plans completely. She insisted on Tyrion’s arrest because she held the firm belief that he was guilty and while it caused a small snag in his plans, Baelish was more than willing to work with it. He knew that the small hiccup of Tyrion’s arrest might come, since Olenna needed a scapegoat to pin the murder of Joffrey on. Tyrion’s guilt or innocence played no part in the bigger game and would be long forgotten once Baelish’s endgame came to fruition.

For years Baelish had been working toward this. He had no idea when it would come but he knew the end was in sight. He worked tirelessly to bankrupt the Seven Kingdoms, to turn the masses against the royal family and to gain the loyalty and secrets of enough highborn families. He devoted every ounce of himself to this game and while his reasons for playing had changed, the desire for the outcome remained the same. He would be one of the most powerful lords in Westeros and would be pulling the strings from behind the throne.

While Joffrey’s death had not been in his original agenda, it matter not who was King, just as long as it was a Lannister King who ruled over Westeros. He had intended for Joffrey to be King until the end but he was a loose cannon and his dear wife wanted him dead. It would be much easier to control Tommen through Margaery than it would have been with Joffrey and it gave Sansa the closure and vengeance she needed in killing Joffrey. Of course, since his emotions regarding his wife were far stronger than he anticipated when making the calculating move of marrying her, he enjoyed watching the man who raped her suffer. He personally thought that stabbing him repeatedly was not enough of a punishment. Baelish knew several clients of his who would enjoy a few hours alone with him; Joffrey wouldn’t have been able to sit down when Baelish finally killed him.

“Is this really necessary?” Cersei’s harsh voice snapped Baelish back to the present. His pleasant daydreams ended and he focused back on the furious lion pacing around the small council chamber. Tywin was at the end of the table while Tommen sat faithfully at his side. Pycelle was on the other side and Varys sat beside the King and across from Baelish. Varys gave the Master of Coin a furious glare, not being too pleased with him currently. His anger was entirely fixable in Baelish’s opinion. Jaime was standing, leaning against a pillar watching his sister and lover pace furiously back and forth. Olenna was seated at the other end of the table, taking in the scene with great amusement. She was present in order to represent the Tyrell family while her granddaughter had a luncheon with Sansa and Arya.

“Cersei, we have been through this. Yes. It is necessary.” Tywin’s voice was both bored and stern. He was used to his daughter’s insolence and knew how to quash it. While he didn’t particularly like the Tyrell family, he wasn’t a fool and knew that he needed them. “The Seven Kingdoms need highborn families to remain united. It would be unwise to make the Tyrells an enemy. Margaery was promised to become Queen and the Capitol needs resources that the Reach can provide. Tommen will marry Margaery and there will be no further argument on the matter.”

“So I'm just supposed to sit by and watch as my only remaining son falls prey to that whore?!” Cersei snapped and Baelish couldn't help but admit that he was enjoying the chaos that surrounded him. He felt pride in his work and even more so, that they had no idea he was behind all of it. Olenna placed her tongue above her teeth, making her lips puck out slightly. She found amusement in Cersei's distress but didn't take kindly to Margaery being disrespected; no matter who it was.

“That whore is my granddaughter and your future Queen. I don’t take kindly to such disrespect.” Olenna said pleasantly, a smile lingering on her lips. Cersei just glared at her, knowing that she was walking on thin ice. She no longer held the power she once had when Robert was King. She had thought that killing him would allow her freedom and power, but never realized how powerless Joffrey would make her and how much her youngest son and father would grow to distrust her. The fact that they didn’t tell her about the plans to betroth Tommen to Margaery cut her deeply. “When shall the wedding be held?”

“If the Reach is willing to pay for at least half, the royal treasury could afford the expense. The wedding could be held tomorrow and we would still be able to stay afloat financially.” Baelish stated. He knew very well that the finances were not as healthy as he was pretending them to be but he wanted Tywin and Tommen to be comfortable in their thinking. He wanted them to relax and let their guard down. It was time for peace even if it would only be for a few weeks.

“Is the debt with the Iron Bank settled?” Tommen asked with a concerned look. Tywin gave his grandson a proud look, telling Baelish that the King was having private lessons on how to be a King; something his brother never cared to partake in. Tywin of course, was far more intelligent than Baelish liked and with his help, Tommen would prove to be a very successful King; if Baelish let him be so. Tywin’s downfall would not be the same as his daughter’s. Cersei believed herself to be far more intelligent than she actually was and that would cause her to fail at some unforeseen time. Tywin however was incredible smart but he knew, his pride would end his life quicker than he was expecting.

“Not completely. We still owe them a great deal but the taxes paid by the royal families appeased them for now. They will come collecting eventually but we have enough time to either impose another tax once the families get settled again, tax those entering the city or borrow the money from another source.” Tywin nodded while Varys just cocked an eyebrow. Baelish already knew how he was going to dig the Seven Kingdoms out of the financial ruin he put them in. He needed the country to be falling apart in order to tear down the Lannisters. In order for his schemes to be successful, he needed the highborn families to turn their backs on them and hang them out to dry.

“Very well.” Tommen nodded, liking Baelish’s answer. He flickered his eyes to his grandfather and saw approval there, indicating that they believed the Mater of Coin’s advice. While the Iron Bank may be appeased at this time, they were more vicious than he wanted the young King to be concerned about. The Iron Bank would get their gold in time but not in the manner they were expecting. “I would like the wedding to be held sooner rather than later. It would be best to provide a united front and an engagement leaves too many loose ends hanging open.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Olenna replied, lifting her goblet as though she was toasting to the King. The idea of a wedding being held within the next couple of weeks suited Baelish perfectly. With Margaery on the throne, it would be easier to push his agendas on the new King through his bride. Of course, he would present them in a way to make it appear as though they were Tommen’s own ideas; something far easier achieved when the target wasn’t a psychopath. “We should honor the mourning period and not a moment longer.”

“Funny how when my husband died, you insisted waiting months and months to marry Margaery to my son. Now, Joffrey is dead and you don’t even want to wait for his body to cool before marrying his wife to his brother. A bit hypocritical isn’t it?” Cersei snapped. Jaime moved to touch her but she flinched away from him, sending a glare his way. “No. There has to be another bride, Tommen, another girl from a good family. Someone better suited to be Queen. Margaery is a widow, leave her at that.” Tommen didn’t reply at first, he simply gave his mother a blank stare.

“I love her.” The truth rang through the chamber like a blade severing a traitor’s neck. It was harsh and cold and it filled Baelish with triumph. Margaery had played him well and Tommen would be devoted to her. A good King rules the Seven Kingdoms. A good Queen rules her King. “I’ve loved her long before Joffrey could claim her as his wife. That won’t change. She will be my Queen.”

“Out. Everyone. Out. I want to speak to my son and my father.” The rest of the small council including, Olenna left the table and the small council chamber. Baelish shared a look between them but neither spoke. The assassination of Joffrey had gone far better than they expected as was betrothing Margaery to Tommen. Tywin seemed partial to the idea and that just made it all the more easy; even if he wasn’t Tommen had proclaimed his love for her and since he was King, he could marry whom he pleased.

As the crowed parted ways, Baelish had every intention of heading back to his personal chambers and spending the day with Sansa. He knew that she was enjoying the afternoon with the bride in question and her sister but that their luncheon would soon be over. He wanted to be able to share the good news, take her to bed and possible speak to their unborn child. It seemed like a perfect afternoon but his thoughts were quickly dashed when he heard his name being called in the middle of the throne room.

“You have caused me great difficulty my dear friend.” Varys was strolling toward him with his hands linked under his purple robe as always. Varys had been quiet as of late but Baelish knew he wasn’t idle. He was caring for the distraught Jeyne Greyjoy who still resided in a tower, mourning the loss of her child. Baelish knew that Varys needed to remain in the shadows for a time, forgotten and comfortable. Perhaps it was time that ended.

“You asked me for a favor and I delivered. You never indicated in what condition you needed him.” Varys narrowed his eyes in mock anger. While he was irritated with the events that had transpired the last few days he expected nothing less from Baelish. While he was in bed with him, so to speak, he knew exactly the kind of man he was making deals with. Baelish didn’t disrupt his plans completely, just made them slightly more difficult to complete.

“I needed Tyrion back in the Red Keep, not rotting in a prison dungeon.” He huffed lightly. He had been down to see the dwarf and the conditions were horrible. Cersei made sure that her brother received the worst treatment possible. While Tywin didn’t want his son arrested, he wasn’t willing to make his imprisonment comfortable. “Of course I would have preferred it if he never left in the first place, even though I appreciate you keeping an eye on him for me.”

“Of course. What are friends for?” Baelish teased, knowing full well that neither would consider the other a friend. An ally perhaps, seeing that their schemes have a mutual desired end; but for different reasons completely. “And you can’t really blame me for Tyrion’s exile from the Red Keep, he should have kept his mouth shut and not insulted a psychotic King. I didn’t plant the idea for Joffrey to murder Shae, he did that on his own accord.”

“Of course you wouldn’t want Shae murdered. It would upset your precious wife far too much.” Varys cocked his head to the side as though taking Baelish in completely. If Varys didn’t have his genitals removed, Baelish would have thought he was getting aroused by the look he was receiving. “She is your weak spot you know. If anything happened to her, especially now, it would be terrifying the chaos you would cause in your anger.”

“What are you saying?”

“Nothing. Just thinking aloud.” Baelish’s back froze and he eyed Varys carefully. He knew that man better than Varys knew himself; Baelish knew that Varys liked his wife enough to keep his hands off of her. Varys wasn’t a man who would intentionally hurt another living thing without just cause or vengeance. Baelish knew what the eunuch had done to the man who cut him but Sansa gave Varys no reason to harm her. “She means more to you than you would want to admit, even to yourself. You would do anything for her, even if it meant killing the King. Should I be concerned about the friendship you have developed with Lady Olenna?”

“No and Joffrey’s death benefits us both, in different ways.” Baelish answered in a diplomatic tone. Varys was no fool and wouldn't cause issues regarding Joffrey's death but it was the fact that too many people knew about the part himself and Sansa played in the death of the King. Varys, the Tyrells (or at least Margaery and Olenna) and Myrcella knew. Neither Olenna nor Margaery would be a problem because if Baelish went down for regicide, he would be able to take down the Tyrells with him. Myrcella was a small concern but if he was able to save Tyrion from execution, which he had every intention of doing, she would keep her silence. If she changed her mind and reported them, Baelish would make sure that Sansa, Arya and his child would be on a boat out of the country while Myrcella cried for mercy at the hands of someone hired to have her killed.

“That does not help me with our current problem.”

“You could always release him yourself.” Baelish indicated toward Varys. Baelish had been doing all the dirty work while keeping his hands clean. They plotted together, not everything of course, but it seemed that Baelish was the one who always got things moving. If he didn't have Myrcella's thin threat hanging over Sansa's head, he might step away from Tyrion and force Varys's hand.

“And be labeled a traitor?” Baelish could tell by the tone in his comrade's voice that he was already thinking along the same line, which pleased Baelish immensely. If Varys was out of the way then it would make his schemes slightly easier. Before the two agreed to work together, Baelish was able to plot and scheme without any type of concession. However, Varys had far more morals than Baelish could even contemplate having. Baelish would propose something and Varys, while able to exact vengeance with the best of them, had far more concerns about innocent lives and the realm than Baelish could ever care about.

“Being charged with treason is hardly the worst thing that has ever happened to you.” Baelish's eyes moved down Vary's body with a smirk on his face. While the damage and tragedy that happened to Varys might get old at times, Baelish found it to be the most obvious factor when trying to degrade the eunuch. Not being able to experience the carnal pleasure of being a man was something so foreign to Baelish and the fact that Varys seemed not to mind his disability even more so. Baelish was a very sexual person, something his wife enjoyed immensely, and the thought of not being able to touch a woman would be maddening to him. He tried to understand that there were some fantasies that even he would not partake in, even if it meant turning a blind eye for his business sake, but that was the closest he could get to understanding Varys. “I'm sure that the King would cut something far worse than a few testicles.”

“I don't know, this new King is far kinder than the last one. Perhaps he would show me mercy.” Varys teased. While they knew that Tommen was a soft boy and didn't have the bloodlust that Joffrey had but it was unclear what he would do with the knowledge of who was truly behind his brother's murder. Neither Baelish nor Sansa meant much to Tommen but would he convict the woman he claimed to love? “Wonder what King Tommen would do if learned the truth? Would he be able to look at perfect Margaery again? And what of you Lord Baelish, what measures would you go to in order to save your wife from execution?”

“Anything. And how did you learn of it?”

“I'm the spider. I know all the secrets in Kings Landing.” It was true. Varys knew far more than anyone in King's Landing and the Seven Kingdoms. He could be a very dangerous man when crossed and Baelish was fortunate to have him as an ally during the current state of affairs. While they had not always been such good friends, Varys had learned of Baelish's scheme to bankrupt the highborn families and the throne. The eunuch was suspicious at first at what his intentions truly were but once he learned the truth behind Baelish's motives, he found that their interest were aligned. “I knew your young wife was expecting long before she would even admit it to herself. Congratulations by the way. Sansa will make an excellent mother, you as a father however has me a bit concerned.”

“I will do anything to protect my child, even if it means crossing a friend.” Baelish bit back with a snarl. He knew that Varys would never harm a child, no matter who the parents were. Varys looked at every child and saw a bit of himself in them. Never wanting to harm them in the ways that he knew he had been. “And you won't say a word about the truth behind Joffrey's death, just like you didn't when Queen Cersei killed her husband. It benefited the both of us.”

“It would have been better if you let me in on the secret. Especially since it included Tyrion. If I was going to have to break him out of a prison cell, I would have liked to have more notice. To get my affairs in order of course.” Varys stated, his tone much lighter than it had been previously. While he was unpleased with the turn of events, he accepted them and began planning his next move.

“The trial is in a few days. Certainly that should be sufficient enough time to do what you need to. It is not like you have a next of kin to leave all your personal belongings to.” Baelish smirked at his own little joke. Perhaps it was old and tiresome but alluding to Varys's lack of sexuality always amused him; mainly because he knew that deep down it bothered the spider. While Varys always stated that the lack of desire was able to fuel his need and ambition, Baelish knew that it must bother him never being able to feel the touch of a woman; and now, seeing that he was able to experience it for himself, Baelish wondered if Varys regretted never being able to have a family.

“I'm not worried about belongings or wealth. I worried about secrets and what would happen if they fell into the wrong hands.” Baelish looked him over, wondering what exactly Varys knew that he didn't. Baelish was many things but a fool was not one of them. He knew that someone like Varys would hold secrets that he himself was unaware of. The less sensible part of him wanted to know what Varys was hiding but Baelish knew better; he knew never to tickle a sleeping dragon because they might just start a fire.

“I'm sure I could keep a few safe for you.”

“And you my dear friend, are exactly what I mean by the wrong hands. My, the damage you could do with just the hint of the things I knew. Glad we're on the same side then.” Varys raised his hand and gave his fingers a wave before turning to walk away. Baelish didn't like not having the last word but he just watched the purple silk move over his friend's back. He knew that Varys was baiting him, wanting him to ask what secrets the eunuch held. However, Baelish wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of giving in; no matter how curious he was. 

“If you plan on taking some time away, there is one other small detail that my wife would like to know.” While he didn’t plan on telling Sansa about Varys’s intentions until it was fulfilled, he knew that some things would have her concerned. He didn’t want her to experience any stress at such a delicate time. Maester Reed said that it would be best if she avoided stress because stress could be harmful toward the child. He smiled and while he knew Sansa had many ways of de-stressing, using his body for example, living in the Red Keep proved far more stressful than living in a place such as Winterfell or some other estate. He thought briefly about sending her to Harrenhal, while not completed, it was making much progress, but knew she would fight him on it if he was not accompanying her. “Lady Greyjoy, her comfort and wellbeing means a great deal to my wife. If she were to be neglected due to your absence, Sansa would be very cross.” 

“You wife can care for her as she sees fit. Lady Greyjoy is more comfortable now that Tommen is on the throne. She is still a prisoner and will be until her husband it caught but Tommen has been far kinder to those imprisoned.” Baelish nodded and Varys strolled away from the Master of Coin. Baelish thought on his comment and wondered if giving those imprisoned comforts was a wise idea. It could make him look generous or weak; then again, wisdom is like beauty, it is in the eye of the beholder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, after Baelish and Sansa, I feel like Varys is one of my favorite characters. There is just something about him that I like. I like the distrustful bro-mance he has going on with Petyr. I just adore it.


	82. Chapter 82

Chapter Eighty Two

The sound of the shackles, dragging across the marble flooring echoed in the silence on the throne room. Tyrion, flanked by two guards was being hauled much like an unruly beast to be slaughtered. To the court, the dwarf was the man who killed their King. Even before, he had been little more than a freak show. They wanted nothing more than to see him suffer not out of loyalty to their old King, but for the simple entertainment of it, the thrill of an execution.

Sansa mingled through the crowed while whispered fluttered about her. Many of those who had scorned and snubbed her for attempting to condemn Jeyne to death, now clamored for her opinions on the matter. The court had a short memory and one scandal would be forgotten once something bigger came along. For those politically minded, the court's tendency to jump from scandal to scandal worked in the player's advantage.

They all claimed that they couldn’t trust him, that the dwarf was corrupt and they all saw it. Lies. This entire trial was built upon lies and Sansa wanted nothing more than to ensure those lies held. Every person in the throne room had built their life upon lies, whether it be because they told their own lies or they believed the lies they were told, their lives all revolved around lies. Everything steamed from the very first lie Sansa told; that the Wildlings had attacked her, covering for her rapist. If she had spoken the truth all those years ago in the Godswood, she wouldn’t be standing there now, watching Tyrion being dragged to the front of the throne room.

She looked to the front and as always, the Lannisters appeared to be the epitome of power. Tommen sat with his back straight on the Iron Throne. Margaery was by his side, her fingers linked with her betrothed. When Joffrey had sat upon that throne, Margaery rarely touched him and if she did, it was out of some attempt to manipulate him. While she had agreed to marry him, Margaery hated the ground Joffrey walked upon. With Tommen, she may not love him but she did enjoy his company and he was far easier to control than his brother. Cersei was in her normal seat, looking far more excited than Sansa had ever seen her. The Queen Mother had hated her brother long before he supposedly murdered her son. Sansa knew she would get great pleasure out of watching Tyrion burn.

Sansa wondered if she should feel guilty or some kind of negative emotion toward Tyrion’s trial but she felt nothing. Perhaps it was because she knew her husband was working to get Tyrion out of this situation, but mostly because she wouldn’t allow herself to feel anything more than relief over Joffrey’s death. She had thought that there would be some kind of happiness and closure with killing him but instead there was just a void left inside of her. The act of murder caused Sansa to lose the last strip of innocence she might have had left. Joffrey shattered her in the most violent way possible and despite the fact that she look everything from her, he was still chocking her from beyond the grave. 

She was pulled from her thoughts when the sound of metal hit the stone flooring. Tyrion grunted at being pushed forward. The Gold Cloaks had been rough with the dwarf and the force that he hit the stone ground would certainly leave some kind of bruise. Despite the rough push he just experienced, Tyrion rose to his feet much like he rose to every other challenged he has ever faced in his life. He looked directly ahead and toward the throne. He knew that his father would condemn him, he was no fool but he had hoped that his nephew who professed to love him since childhood, might have some kind of mercy; but he wasn’t banking on it. 

“Tyrion Lannister, you are here, charged with the murder of the late King Joffrey of House Lannister and Baratheon.” It wasn't Tommen's voice that sounded but instead Tywin's. The Hand of the King stood and leaned causally against the Iron Throne. Tommen couldn't even make eye contact with his uncle but gripped Margaery's hand tightly. It didn't matter to her or the Tyrells what the outcome of the trial was, just as long there was enough suspicion on someone else to push away from them. Myrcella however looked past her brother and all the others, directly toward Sansa and her husband. Baelish had told her to wait until the trial was over before she received what she wanted. “How do you plead?” 

“I didn't kill him.” Tyrion sounded sincere and it amazed Sansa how easily the court was willing to condemn him. They wanted him to be guilty and therefore he was. They had no desire to find the truth because the truth was either horrible or boring. Whispers erupted and the word 'liar' yelled from more than one voice. Tommen held up his hand, silencing the court. “I promise you that I wanted to and would have if I have the resources or opportunity, but I didn't.” 

“You stand there proclaiming your innocence all the while stating that you wanted to kill my son?” Cersei hissed as her nails dug into the wooden chair that was positioned beside her youngest son. She leaned forward as though she was about to strike. She looked like a pure lioness protecting her cub. If Tywin hadn't moved toward her and placed his hand on her shoulder then she would have pounced. “You're a filthy creature.”

“Cersei. Calm yourself.” Despite the fact that Cersei leaned back into her chair, her nails dug deeper into the wooden chair. If she had her way, she would have her brother executed on the spot but she knew that Tywin wanted to minimize the damage that has been done to his family's reputation. The fact that his children were at each other's throat and that his grandson had been murdered by what appeared to be his son, Tywin knew that it was getting out of control. “Tyrion is not on trial for that.”

“Oh but I am, father. I am innocent of murdering you son dear sister, but I am guilty of a far more monstrous crime.” Tyrion sneered, almost as though he didn't care that he might be executed before the week was out. With Shae's death, it appeared that he cared for nothing, not even his own life. Sansa thought back to the conversation they had in the brothel and how he was willing to allow Baelish to do with him as he pleased, even if it meant being executed for a crime he didn't commit. He may plead his innocence but the outcome mattered not to him. “I'm on trial for being a dwarf.” 

There was laughter echoing through the hall now. The court found that notion to be hysterical and Sansa sneered. Of course they would find such a comment funny, poking fun at the odd man who never fit the mold of anything that the court stood for, besides having a powerful name behind him. However, even that didn't stop him from facing trial. It spoke volumes that Tywin wasn't willing to bail out his own son. If it was Jaime in such a position, it was clear that the Hand would move heaven and earth to free his golden boy.

“You are not on trial for being a dwarf Tyrion.” Tywin spoke with a hint of dark humor in his tone. Sansa could tell that if Tywin could put his youngest son on trial for that alone, he would but he couldn't especially with Tommen as King. Sansa wondered though it Tywin even wanted that. It was no secret that he hated the man because his beloved Joanna died in childbirth with Tyrion but would he really persecute his son for something beyond his control? Sansa knew that the leader of the Lannister family was a cold bastard but she did not think that even he would do something so heinous; not out of love or affection but to keep the Lannister name from becoming even more tarnished. 

“I'm not? Because that is certainly what it feels like.” Tyrion hissed. “I've been on trial my entire life for being a dwarf.” The sad part of it was Sansa knew that the dwarf was speaking the truth. There was a tiny part of her that felt guilty for putting him in this position but Sansa knew that if she tried to pull him out, then she would be risking her own life along with the child's and her husband's. That was the reason why she kept quiet in regards to Joffrey's murder. Even Mycella's angry threats wouldn't stop her and she trusted Baelish enough to know that he would fix this some how. 

“You're on trial for killing the king, not being a dwarf. Do you confess?” 

“I have many confessions.” His tone changed to amusement. Tyrion was no fool and knew that he was stuck with no way out. Yet, he refused to go down without taking a few people with him. Sansa suddenly had the desire to see the embarrassment he had in store for the Lannisters. “Where to begin? There are the basic, lying, cheating, gambling and whoring among them.” There was a small rumble of laughter through the hall. Tywin, however, remained passive. “Not clear enough? When I was seven, I saw a servant girl bathing in the river. I stole her robe and she had to return to the castle naked and in tears. I close my eyes but I can still see her tits bouncing....” Tyrion closed his eyes imagining the sight.

“Tyrion.”

“When I was ten, I stuffed my uncle's boots with goat shit. When you confronted me with the crime, I blamed a squire. Poor boy was flogged, and I escaped justice. When I was twelve I milked my eel into a pot of turtle stew. I flogged the one-eyed snake, I skinned my sausage. I made the bald man cry into the turtle stew, which I do believe my sister ate. At least I hope she did.” The crowed erupted in hysterical laughter but Cersei stood from her seat fuming.

“You vile little creature.” Cersei spat. “You murder my son and taunt me? You're more than a monster.” She appeared completely heartbroken and devastated. If Sansa didn't know what part Cersei played in her brother's death, she might have felt sorry for her. Sansa placed her hand on her growing stomach, wondering what her child would be like. If her child became a monster, would she still love him or her? Deep down she knew that she would love this child until the day she died and she was no fool. With her and Baelish as the child's parents, the child obviously would have some devious tendencies. She would just have to learn to control them, and not to become sadistic for no purpose. Baelish taught her that every move must have a part in a bigger scheme. 

“I'm the vile creature? Lets discuss your sins for a moment dear sister? Lets start with your deceased husband. It was no secret that he was fond of wine, whores and hunting but did a boar really do him in? And what of Jaime? Do your children know the truth or should I enlighten the entire court to your nighttime activities?” 

“Enough!” Tywin yelled, causing Tyrion to be silenced, a trick the eldest Lannister was used to playing. Cersei sat down obviously relieved that her dirty secrets ended with her father's scolding. There was a slight pride in her posture and Sansa knew that Cersei was used to getting away with anything, having her father cover it up and Tyrion taking the blame. “Your Grace, I think its time for you to make your decision.” Tommen was quiet and looked grave. Margaery squeezed his hand and he looked at her. She gave a small nod as though she was giving him permission. 

“My first act as King was announce my engagement to Lady Margaery.” Margaery gave him a flattered smile, playing him for the fool that he was. “My second is a lot less pleasant. I had never thought I would be King so I never thought what it would be like but I never would have imagined this. You were my uncle and I cared for you but murder is a heinous crime. If Joffrey was anyone else, perhaps a life sentence in a dungeon or service to the Wall but Joffrey was the King and you killed him. The punishment for killing a King is punishable by death. I'm sorry uncle, but that must be your punishment.” It was clear that Tommen took no joy in handing out Tyrion's punishment. 

“Our work here is done. Let’s go Sweetling.” Baelish whispered in Sansa's ear. He placed his hand on the small of her back. They weaved through the crowed, listening to Tyrion's silence. There were no tears of anger or grief. It was as though he accepted his fate and expected nothing else. Once they reached the empty hall outside the throne room, Sansa let out a breath and turned, placing her hands on her husbands chest. “Our mess is almost cleaned up.” 

“And I'm sure we will find ourselves in another one.” Sansa smirked and kissed him. The kiss was gentle and sweet. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to feel his lips against her's. She pressed her body to him, wishing they were alone and not in a hallway that could fill with people at any moment. When she broke away, she looked at him. She should feel something about Tyrion's sentence but all she felt was relief, which ended quickly. 

“You bastard!” Myrcella's furious voice screamed. Both Baelish and Sansa turned to see the angry blonde storming their way. She was still dressed in black, honoring the mourning period of her dead brother. Myrcella did not miss her brother but she would mourn her uncle. “You promised to get him out in exchange for me keeping the truth buried. Having him sentenced to death was not you keeping your end of the bargain.” 

“Trust me princess, your precious uncle will be saved but even you can't imagine that he would be able to enjoy his life as it was.” Baelish leered at her while Sansa smirked. She wasn't sure exactly what her husband's planned was but she trusted him. He had a plan for Tyrion and was unconcerned about Myrcella's blackmail. “I have to protect my family, princess. You brother assaulted my wife and your uncle crossed me. I promise you that I will be far more merciful to him than I was your brother.”

“I think you forget what family runs this country.”

“And I think you never knew who really ran it.” Baelish countered. “Smile princess, your uncle will be free soon enough. I might add that you won't be seeing him for awhile but he'll be safe; pampered even and alive.” He chuckled, pulling Sansa into his side. Myrcella looked at Sansa with sad eyes.

“How do you do this? Being married to him? Hurting innocent people?” She shook her head causing the gold locks to sway. “Did my brother do this to you? Was he the one who turned you into this cold and cruel person? I'm sorry. I'm just so sorry. I knew he was cruel and sadistic but no matter what he has done to you does not allow you to what you please. My uncle didn't hurt you, no matter what your husband believes him to have done. My uncle is not a cruel man and is innocent of what he is being accused of. You're not a monster Sansa.” 

“There are very few people I trust in this world but my husband is one of them. If he says that Tyrion is in no danger of losing his life then I believe him. Your brother is one who sentenced him but my husband will be the reason he stays alive.” Sansa said. She wanted to reach out and take Myrcella's hand but she knew that her comfort wouldn’t be accepted. “But, if Tyrion was to die, his innocent life would not be the first that I turned my back on.” With that Sansa linked her hand with her husband's and pulled him down the hallway. She could hear Myrcella's quiet sob as she tried to hold back her tears. Myrcella was intelligent, possibly the most intelligent Lannister outside her uncle Tyrion. However, she wasn't built for the game and unlike her mother she realized it. 

“Well it looks the lioness cub is tamed, for now.” Baelish chuckled. He placed his hand on the small of her back as the moved. Sansa looked over her shoulder and toward Myrcella, who was leaning against the stonewall. She felt slightly guilty for the comments made toward her because the young woman knew she would never see her uncle again; but it was a relief that she knew the dwarf would not be executed. 

Sansa realized that Tyrion must have been the only member of her family that kept her sane. The previous King Robert must have never her much attention and her mother was a vile creature, something Myrcella must have realized. Her biological father could not be permitted to show any type of real interest. Joffrey, outside of punishing the man who had touched her as a child, was always cruel. Tommen was a comfort but naive. Tyrion was the only family member of substance. He would have seen her intellect and nurtured it.

“You are getting Tyrion off execution? Right?” While both knew that Myrcella didn't have the darkness in her to do some of the things the game required, Sansa didn't want to write her off completely. Push anyone to the brink and they will snap. Sansa knew that she did not want to be on the receiving end if Myrcella achieved that darkness.

“Me? No. Not personally. I have someone on it though.” 

“All part of your master plan?” She wished she knew what Baelish's master plan was. She knew that he had an end game with several outcomes. However, she knew none of it. It wasn't that he didn't trust her, she was the only person he did trust, but she knew that one of the outcomes he planned for what getting caught. If he did get caught, his immediate death would be ordered and he wanted her to have deniability. He had an escape route for her and their child. Sansa didn't know the destination but far enough away the no one in Westeros would find her. 

“Everything is part of the master plan. I knew someone would be angry about Tyrion's arrest and death sentence, I just couldn't be certain who. I had my theories of course and I knew how to appease them. Myrcella will be angry and most likely will never forgive you for your role.” Sansa rolled her eyes. She had liked Myrcella but she wasn't close enough to be anyone who really mattered to her. “The worst scenario here is that you lost a friend.” 

“I've had worse.” Baelish didn't responded but she could see his brows crease. He wanted nothing more than for her to be happy. The mere thought that she had suffered in the past and during some of the time they had been married, ate away at him. He had seen her cry to many times and he vowed that he would find someway to make those who caused her tears. He made sure Joffrey paid that price and that Sansa was able to get her revenge. He also decided to make anyone who dared to touch her, pay. 

They made their way toward Baelish's solar. They spoke no more of Tyrion or the trial because there were ears everywhere. Sansa knew that Baelish would be asking his eyes and ears wondering if anyone heard Myrcella's angry confrontation. If there were witnesses, he would make sure that the evidence was covered up. When the reached the solar, two floors above the throne room, Baelish pushed the door open, allowing his wife to step inside.

“What happens next? Once Tyrion is free and on the run?” Sansa asked once Baelish made sure that the door was shut tight. She leaned against the desk, crossing her arms. Baelish made his way toward her and took her into his arms. He kissed the top of her head.

“Nothing.” He mumbled against her head. Sansa looked at him with concern. She knew that this was not the end of the game. There were so many more players left that it would be impossible for there to be no more moves left to play. Baelish placed his hand on her stomach, caressing the ever growing bump. “Your goal now is to nurture and grow our child. I don't want you to be stressed. Just know that I will protect you.”

“What are you planning?” Sansa whispered but she knew that he wasn't going to answer. She looked deep into his grey-green eyes and saw that it was too late for him to turn back now. His plan was farther along than she thought and whatever it was, the end was a forgone conclusion. It will be his biggest and best move yet or Tyrion won't be the only one hearing their death sentence. “What about Sybil? You honestly can't expect me to let that go?”

“Of course not. But that will be handled. We already have a plan. The time is coming soon and then it is in Arya's hands.” Sansa side, hating that she would have to watch and not be directly involved or know what is going on. She knew that Baelish would keep his dealings quiet, even from her; not because he didn't trust her but he wanted her safe and didn't want to risk their child. Sansa looked down at the swell of her stomach and sighed. As much as she hated it, she knew that he was right.

“Just don't lie to me okay? If something goes wrong, don't you dare lie to me.” She didn't move her gaze as she stared at him. Baelish placed his hands on the side of her face. He leaned in and kissed her but even then Sansa didn't close her eyes. She meant what she said to Myrcella, she trusted her husband but she had no false illusions as to the man he was. He was dangerous, held little to no morals and was willing to risk everything if it meant getting what he wanted. He was a liar, whoremonger and everything else Olenna liked to joke about him being. Everything was true. Baelish pulled his lips from hers but kept his hands on her face.

“I may keep things from you but I promise that I have never and will never lie to you. You are the one and only person I am honest with. I may do something dangerous and if it ever put you or our children at risk, you will know.” He pulled her into an embrace, holding her close. “It is not forever, just until this is over. The end is coming soon, I promise.”


	83. Chapter 83

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Well what a premiere! I could say so much about it but then you would spend all evening reading my A/N and not this chapter. I would recommend RedTeamsReveiw on YouTube. He basically says what I think of the episode. Minus the part of the compete disappointment of no Petyr.

Chapter Eighty-Three

They laid in bed together, doing nothing but holding each other, talking and laughing. Sansa was resting against the headboard, covered in a silk robe. Baelish lounged besides her, tracing her growing belly. They had tossed some ideas on what they should name their child. Baelish made it a point to pull out the most awful and ridiculous names that he could think of. He would laugh at the ridiculous faces Sansa would pull. She would smack his chest when he would say names such as Tywin or Cersei and he would answer that it would be flattery to name their child after a Lannister. Sansa knew he was kidding but she couldn't help but throw him a mock glare. He returned her glare with a smirk, followed by a kiss.

It was late but Sansa couldn't sleep. The baby was a lot more active than he or she had been previously. Baelish couldn't feel the child, much to his dismay. He insisted on staying awake with her even though he had a brothel to run in the morning, despite her best attempts to make him sleep. Sansa could only hope that the desire to stay awake with her extended after the child was born as well. While she teased him about him saying such things now, she knew that her husband was a light sleeper and was the first one to rise.

Baelish moved to sit against the headboard and opened his arms. Sansa leaned into him, placing herself between his legs, her back against his chest. He kissed her clothed shoulder and placed her hands on the small bump. He rubbed her stomach hoping to feel the child kick or something but nothing happened. Sansa smirked, knowing that their child was very active inside of her. A small part of her was thrilled that she was still able to have this moment for herself before Baelish was able to claim the child. It was selfish as she knew that Baelish would make sure their child reached their full potential but this was something that was just between herself and their child.

It wasn't long before Baelish's hands began to drift down her side and to her knee. His fingers were slow, tracing invisible circles on her skin. He inched lower and lower until her was close to her center. Sansa sucked in a breath in an anticipation. Just the mere touch of him in any sort of seductive manner caused her core to flood with arousal. Sansa spread her legs wider and Baelish chuckled, his hot breath against her throat. 

Baelish touched the lips that were covered with her fiery red hair and slowly placed the tip of his finger on her nub. Sansa whimpered as she tilted her head back on his shoulder. He began to move his finger in a circular motion, picking up speed as he went. Her hips bucked against his hand as he inserted his finger inside before adding another. He began to thrust them quickly while his thumb pressed against her nub. 

Sansa's hands went behind her and weaved her fingers through his black hair. Her nails dug into his scalp causing him to hiss. Sansa's legs spread farther and farther apart while her hips created a faster rhythm. Baelish could feel her walls contracting around his fingers and knew that she was close to the brink of ecstasy. She yelled out his name when she felt that ever familiar burst of pleasure. There was ringing in her ears as she came. When came down from her release, she realized that the ringing was not only in her ears. The bells that rang signifying Joffrey's death rang again. Despite not being able to achieve his own pleasure, Baelish moved off of the bed and grabbed a silk robe that was tossed over a chair. Sansa followed suit and dressed herself in her own robe. 

“Looks like the brothel will have to do without me for the day.” Baelish muttered. Sansa rolled her eyes at him. Both of them knew that he wasn't going to be able to get there if his plan was successful. Despite all of that, he still had hoped to spend the day there because he has not been able to run it himself as he used to. He trusted Ros and Olyvar but the brothel was still his and he wanted it to be run correctly. 

“You knew that you weren’t going to make it, so why plan to go?” The bells slowed but a pounding on their front door of their chambers echoed. Sansa turned her head and her heart began to thump. She heard the direwolves growl. Baelish placed his hands on her cheeks, sensing her worry. His eyes were dark but he appeared to be worry free, as though he was expecting whomever was at their door. 

“An innocent man's life is disrupted by tragedy, and a guilty man plans around tragedy.” He planned to go to the brothel, knowing he wouldn't make it because he wanted his days to appear as normal as possible. Baelish leaned in and kissed her before breaking away. He opened their sleeping chamber door and entered the main living area. 

“What in god's name is going on!” Arya asked as she came running down the spiral steps. Her hair was disheveled and it was clear that she had been fast asleep; her rest being disturbed by the bells. Her hands went to her eyes as she attempted to rub the sleep away. Baelish didn't answer her but instead, told her to stay behind him. Sansa moved to follow her husband but Arya stopped her. Baelish placed his hands on the knob and turned. Jaime Lannister and several members of the King's Guard flowed through the doorway. They were all dressed impeccably, as though they had been on guard for hours. The Kingslayer looked dashing as always as he approached Baelish. Greywind left his sisters and perched himself beside Baelish, poised to strike at any moment. Lady and Nymeria stood beside their masters. 

Jaime did not have his usual cockiness about him. There was no witty comeback behind his father and there was no protection. This was a man who served his king and then eventually killed him. This was a man whose own father removed him from position in order to keep him out of his twin sister’s bed. This was a man who was so narcissistic that the only woman he could ever love was a woman who held his own reflection. Sansa stood in front of the father of the man she murdered and she felt nothing. She had thought that she might feel some sort of remorse but instead there was nothing there. It all came from Bran. Jaime pushed Bran from that tower and Sansa viewed Joffrey's murder as some sort of repayment. A life for a life. A Lannister stole her brother's life and another store her virtue. She would not stop until all the Lannisters paid for their sins against her family. 

“Search the entire chamber. Leave nothing unturned. If he is here, find him.” Jaime's tone was melancholic. He was conflicted, as though he wasn't sure exactly what he wanted to find. Sansa could see that he wanted to see his little brother live but also catch the person who murdered his son. This confused Sansa because she knew that Jaime held no real affection for Joffrey. He rather seemed to despise the boy. Why would he care so much if the brother he loved escaped execution for murdering the son he hated?

Cersei. 

He would do anything for his sister even if it meant watching his innocent brother die. When Sansa couldn't think any lower of him, Jaime sunk even deeper in her opinion. He may be lower on her list of people she hated but since a spot at the top had recently been vacant, perhaps it was time to move him up? 

“May I ask what you are searching my home for?” Baelish asked, knowing the answer. Several of the guards were already turning the place apart. Ros and the maids were going to have a difficult time cleaning this mess up. Neither Sansa nor Baelish were worried of anything incriminating being found because they made sure there was nothing. However, Arya seemed upset and confused. Sansa wrapped her arms around her sister, pulling her close. 

“Tyrion.” Jaime gave a soft, bitter laugh. He took a few steps forward and looked Baelish directly in the eye. He was sizing him up, calculating to see if he was a threat. Baelish wouldn't be able to take him physically, a lesson he learned long ago, but he certainly would be able to outsmart him and would have the last word. “I have men searching your brothel as well. My brother does love your whores. Says they are the best in the Seven Kingdoms. He loved them so much he even lived there for several weeks.” 

“I thought the dwarf was down in the dungeons.” 

“Not anymore.” Jaime replied. A crash was heard from their sleeping chamber and Sansa moved to see what it was. Baelish held up his hand, stopping her. She had been preparing the nursery and if they ruined her hard work, she was going to be furious. “Your friend Varys seems to have released him. The two haven't been seen since. Tell me Littlefinger, how does it feel to know that you're such good friends with a traitor?” 

“How does it feel to be the brother of a murder?” Jaime didn't reply. Instead he just looked at Baelish with an angry glare. Baelish instead wore his infamous smirk. Jaime moved his hand toward the sword on his hip as though he was about to draw it. Greywind made his presence known by bearing his teeth and growling. The only male direwolf in King's Landing seemed to have attached himself Baelish once his master had been murdered. Jaime backed down slightly, knowing that he could take a direwolf, let alone three. If one attacked, the other two would follow. 

“Hey! That’s mine!” Arya's voice caused heads toward the stairwell. A guard was making his way down the spiral stairs holding a sword in his hand. Needle. Arya pulled herself out of her sister's arms and went toward the guard. She went to reach for Needle but the guard pulled back, laughing. They seemed to be amused at the fire that was clearly inside of the young girl and the fury that rolled off of her. Jaime walked away from Baelish and toward the guard, taking the sword from his hand. “Give it back!” 

The Kingslayer turned the sword over in his hand and gave an approving nod. It seemed that he was impressed with the sword and that a young female would have it. He eyed Arya, taking her in from head to toe and then looked at the sword again. It was clear that the sword gave him amusement and that Arya was no threat to him. Sansa wondered if Arya's small size would always cause her to be underestimated; it was something that would work out in her favor. 

“Sir.” Once again heads turned but this time the guard came out with a much smaller weapon. Sansa's direwolf engraved dagger was held out for the entire room to see. Sansa's heart began to race faster even though she knew that there was nothing on the dagger for Jaime to see. All of Joffrey's blood had been whipped clean and there was no law stating that she couldn't own a dagger. True she wanted her weapon to remain a secret but they couldn't hide everything and this was a small secret in comparison to others. Jaime held the dagger in his hand and traced the engraving. He looked at Sansa and laughed. 

“It seems both of you lady wolves are well armed.” Jaime seemed all but amused. The thought that women being armed would prevent any sort of harm coming to them was ridiculous. If a man wanted to take a woman, then a mere knife or sword wouldn't stop him, especially if the woman was unprepared to use it. What Jaime didn't realize that both Sansa and Arya wouldn’t hesitate. 

“Precaution. While I have guards protecting them at all times and they go nowhere without their wolves, I don't want the one time the wolves stray or when the guards change to be the one time something happens to them. Although the man who harms my wife or my sister should know better. That man would be dead before too long.” Jaime narrowed his eyes but said nothing. Baelish all but confessed to murdering his son but there was no proof. “And I wasn't the one who gave them the weapons but I'm glad they have them.”

“Then who did?”

“Commander of the Nights Watch, Jon Snow.”

“Ex-commander and another traitor. Funny company you keep Littlefinger.”

“Sir, he is not here.” The guard who was holding Needle spoke. Jaime nodded at him, indicating that he understood and that it was time to return the sword back to its owner. The guard chuckled when Arya snatched it out of his hand. Arya's eyes narrowed at the guard but said nothing. Jaime took the blade of the dagger and placed it on the palm of his hand before handing the dagger back to Baelish, handle first. Baelish took the dagger and the blade nicked Jaime's thumb slightly. He hissed as he quickly pulled his hand away. He put his thumb into his mouth and sucked on the blood slightly. More Lannister blood that the dagger had on its blade.

“My brother may not be here because even you are not that foolish, but there is your brothel to view just yet.” Jaime stated with a hint of sarcasm in his tone. Baelish and Jaime just glared at each other, neither willing to back away from a challenge. Eventually Jaime raised his hand, moving his fingers, telling his guards that it was time to head out. “I'm sure that I'll be seeing you soon Lord Baelish.” Jaime turned but stopped when Baelish spoke.

“I don't know where Varys has taken Tyrion but I can assure you that you won't find him. Not if Varys doesn't want you too.” Jaime huffed and watched as his guards left the chamber. He was the last one through the door and Baelish placed his hand on the back of the door. “The question is, how do you feel about that? The man who murdered your sister's son walks free; your brother.” 

“Joffrey was my nephew and my King. I will find Tyrion.” Jaime vowed but Baelish didn't hear a single ounce of conviction behind it. Jaime was torn between duty and what he deemed was right. He loved his brother but Jaime was a Lannister and he would choose the remainder of his family and his heritage over what he feels is right. Jaime just gave him a look of loathing before Baelish shut the door. 

Baelish moved away from the door and tossed the dagger on a table in the corner. He walked toward Sansa and placed his hands on her shoulder. He squeezed them and pulled her into a tight embrace, kissing the top of her head. His hand went down to her stomach and caressed the bulge. He eyes traveled over his wife's head toward his sister. Arya placed Needle down, propping it up in a corner, and walked over to the couple. She wasn't a touchy person and neither was Baelish; except for Sansa. Arya leaned against the couch and watched them.

“Are you alright?” Baelish asked and Arya nodded. He could tell that she was irritated and that her temper was flying. Keeping her temper under control was something Baelish tried to teach Arya. Ned never was able to really keep it check but Baelish saw potential in Arya that Ned would never allow himself to see. However, if Arya lost her nerve, it could shatter anything she might be capable of. He could see behind Arya's eyes that her mind was turning red. She was angry and anger has been the only thing that has been fueling her for the last several weeks.

“What is going on?” Arya asked and Sansa pulled away from her husband. She moved to sit on the sofa and rested her head against the arm. Her eyes scanned the damage that was done to her home and wondered how much time it would take the servants to clean it up. “Joffrey is dead, good ridden but we all know that Tyrion didn't do it. Now, the man who is taking the fall for my sister's crimes has escaped? What the hell is going on!?” 

“Where is Tyrion, Petyr?” Sansa asked and her husband gave her the look she hated. It was the look he gave her when he wasn't going to give her the answer she wanted. While she knew that keeping secrets was necessary for him, she didn't like it. 

“I was honest with the Kingslayer, I don't know where Tyrion is.” Baelish replied but Sansa gave him a complete look of disbelief. He smirked at her but she didn't waiver. “I honestly don't know. Varys never told me because he knew that they would suspect me of hiding him. I made sure that our dealings appeared transparent and that we had nothing to hide.”

“We have everything to hide.” 

“Exactly.”

“So you had Varys break Tyrion out of his cell and had them flee but why?” Sansa almost forgot that Arya was even farther in the dark than herself when it came to Baelish's plans. Baelish sighed and walked over to the cart that held their wine. He poured himself a nice glass and drank from it. Baelish was not on to indulge but every once and while he allowed himself a taste; despite the fact that he vowed he would never trust another living soul, he trusted these two women. 

“Because Tyrion owes me. He promised to keep his nephew in check and away from my wife. He failed to keep that promise and I had the misfortune of seeing Sansa hurt. I will never allow that to happen again.” Baelish took a long drink from his goblet before continuing. “He is far more useful alive than dead and he is needed elsewhere.” 

“Wait. You don't know where he is, but you know where he is going?” Arya asked but Baelish didn't reply. Instead he just gave her a cheeky smile and drank from his goblet. When she realized that he wasn't going to answer her, Arya huffed in frustration and pushed off he back of the sofa. She glared at Baelish which seemed to amuse it. “If you're not going to be helpful, I'm going back to sleep.” With that Arya made her way back up the stairs and out of sight. 

Baelish walked around the sofa and sat down beside his wife. He moved his arm around her shoulder and by instinct, Sansa leaned into him. She placed her head on his chest and listened to the soothing sound of his heart. His fingers went to her hair and began to weaved through them. He continued to drink his wine until Sansa took the goblet from his hand. She took a deep gulp for herself and then placed it on the wooden end table in front of them. She turned her body to face her husband and placed her elbow on the back of the sofa with her head leaning on her hand.

“You won't tell me where Tyrion is going or why he is going there.” She took his hand and kissed the back of it. “I know you better than to pry because it will be useless and I trust you. I know you won't tell me because it's better that I don't know. But can you at least tell me one thing?” Baelish didn't reply but just looked at her. He nodded and Sansa gave him a smile. “Was this what you have planned for Tyrion? All that time we had him at the brothel, was this your end game for him? To have him take the fall for Joffrey and then send him away?”

“Yes and no.” Baelish leaned down and captured Sansa's lips. The kiss was short but sweet. Sansa closed her eyes and fell into the kiss. Once they broke apart, Baelish let his forehead rested against hers. His hand went to her cheek and and stroked the side of her face. “I needed Tyrion out of King's Landing. That was my end game for him, well, the beginning of my end game for him. I must confess that framing him for Joffrey's murder was not my idea but Olenna's. He was the most convenient person to pin it on.” 

“Why do you need Tyrion away from King's Landing?” Sansa asked in a sly manner. Baelish just raised an eyebrow causing his wife to huff in frustration. He chuckled because he found the fire in her highly attractive. “Fine, but don't blame me from trying.” Sansa moved in front of Baelish and straddled his legs; settling herself on his lap. “And I will tell you this Lord Baelish, that whatever end game you are playing is finished, you will never hide anything from me again. Do I make myself clear?” 

“Crystal Lady Baelish.” Sansa grinned at him and leaned down to kiss him again. Their tongues fought for dominance and Baelish wrapped his arms around her. His wife was turning into a fearsome being and in a few years time when she bore his children and she completely understood the game, she would be a beautiful sight to behold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay: so a few things.
> 
> 1) Jaime. Now, the book/tv show Jaime is a character who I think has fantastic growth and a great story-line. However, my Jaime never had the experiences that shape him, thus making him the narcissistic asshole in season one. He never had the chance to grow. 
> 
> 2) While this chapter might seem a bit slow, there were some very important things happening here. I won't say what but some foreshadowing was going on. 
> 
> 3) I really wanted to have a sweet moment between Petyr/Sansa. 
> 
> Thoughts?


	84. Chapter 84

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! I'm sorry for the wait. Before we start on this chapter, can we talk about Sunday's episode?? OMG. It was amazing. The Sansa/Jon scene? I almost cried. And we saw Baelish!!!!! Yay! Finally! But next week! They're back together...but I'm nervous for how it is going to go!.

Chapter Eighty Four

The day was warm with the sun shining down into the courtyard but there was a gentle breeze flowing through making the heat bearable. A lavish and colorful tent had been pitched earlier. There were sofas filled with pillows and tables full of food and drink surrounding them. Laughter was plentiful as the women joked and drank in full. The color and splendor only meant one thing.

Mourning King Joffrey Baratheon was over. 

The official mourning period was still in full swing but enough time had passed to allow the Kingdom to move on. While it was a far shorter time than it had been after the passing of King Robert, Joffrey was a far more hated king. While Robert didn't exactly have a favorable reputation, he at least didn't torture his subjects for fun. So, once the appropriate three weeks had passed, very few continued publicly showing their mourning. 

Margaery wanted to celebrate the occasion with a luncheon on the grounds, inviting both Sansa and Arya. She had wanted to invite Myrcella but thought that it would be in bad taste. So other than a few of Margaery's cousins in town for her second wedding to King Tommen, it was just the three of them. Margaery's laughter and happy manner appeared to be genuine as though she had recovered completely from the trauma of Joffrey's murder. The bruises on her face had healed and there seemed to be no trace of permanent damage. 

She appeared to be coping well with the knowledge that she was partly responsible for his death. Killing a man, no matter how evil he was, ruined a part of the murderer; if they had a consciousness of course. Either she had come to terms with her devious acts or she was burying them deep down inside to the point that she couldn't feel them. No matter what her method was, Margaery appeared to be a blushing bride as ever, with a wedding just days away.

It amazed Sansa how quickly the wedding was thrown together. Olenna was insistent that the wedding be quick and painless, the exact opposite of her wedding to Joffrey. It was a small affair, Tommen not one to need a sumptuous party simply because he is the king. The wedding was to take place mere days after the mourning period was over, placing Margaery on the throne, displacing Cersei once and for all. Even Sansa couldn't wait to see a useless Cersei especially when she would no longer wield the power of the throne. Despite the fact that Cersei was the Queen Mother, Margaery was the Queen and if she wanted Cersei gone, Margaery could make it happen. Court was bound to get very interesting. 

Margaery's laughter pulled Sansa from her musings to focus at the conversation at hand. Margaery's cousins had wandered off, leaving the three of them alone. Whatever her friend and sister giggling over, Sansa was in the dark. Her mind had traveled away from the current scene and towards darker paths. She turned toward Margaery and gave a giggle. She was pleased for her friend and how happy she appeared. Of course any man was better than Joffrey and she got to be queen. There was no reason for her not to be happy. 

“Tommen has been such a sweetheart! Kind all the time, asking if this is what I want. Of course he is being very considerate with the death of Joffrey. He wants the wedding to be quick but not to draw too much unwanted attention. Tommen isn't one for being the center of attention.” Margaery smiled and took a sip of her tea out of the porcelain cup. “It's not that he isn't alright with being the center of attention, I mean the last few weeks for him have been a whirlwind for him but he is doing well. Tommen was just always used to being pushed aside.”

“You mean Cersei was always more focused on Joffrey.” Arya interjected with a ladylike smile but even Margaery could see the sarcasm behind it. Arya was wearing a flowing dark green dress, something she hadn't worn much since she learned that Sybil was behind Robb and their father's murder. Arya had been training hard but it left no time for other pleasures. Although, what Sansa thought was a fun time was torture for her sister.

“That is one very obvious way of putting it but yes. Cersei loves all her children but Joffrey was always her favorite. Something I can't really understand.” Sansa reached out and placed her hand on top of Margaery's hand. Baelish was not a man to raise a hand to a woman who was not a whore but in case of Margaery, he unfortunately had to make an exception. “She loved him so much that she was willing to turn a blind eye to his sadistic nature.” 

Sansa's mind flew to how Cersei would defend her son even after he threw her into a dark and damp prison cell, leaving her there to rot. Months had passed since the incident but it still came up in conversation now and again. There was even a theory among the lesser members of the court that Cersei had a part to play in his death. Of course anyone close to her would know that those claims would be false. Joffrey could have beaten her every night and she still would stand and protect him. 

“Is Cersei making herself a nuisance?” Sansa asked and Margaery snorted in a very unladylike manner. She shook her head and rolled here eyes. She could tell that Cersei was being frustrating but it appeared that she was making little headway with her son. Even her father, Tywin supported the match and Jaime saw no reason to oppose it. Cersei was in the minority and it infuriated her especially because there was nothing she could do without facing her father's anger. Tywin wanted this match and now that she was no longer Queen, Cersei had very little power.

“Yes. She is trying to convince Tommen to end our engagement. He is getting rather frustrated with her, not that he would do anything about it.” Tommen's submissive behavior worked both for Margaery and against her. He was easy to manipulate but it would be difficult for him to follow through with the more difficult judgments. Margaery confided that it took hours of 'convincing' for him to sentence his uncle to death. After participating in Joffrey's death, Margaery seemed a bit colder and sentencing Tyrion was nothing. She had no idea of Baelish's planes to have Tyrion released from his cell. “Although her main focus was the bounty she put out for Tyrion's head. A heavy reward has been set. My grandmother was very concerned when she learned of Tyrion's escape.” 

“I know. I was rather shaken myself. I have no idea that Tyrion and Lord Varys were so close.” Sansa chimed in, brining her own tea to her lips. Arya threw her a confused look when Margaery wasn't looking at her. Sansa just smiled, hoping to convey that Margaery had no knowledge of Baelish's part in Tyrion's escape. It was important that it remained quiet, even to their allies. Baelish and Varys always appeared to dislike each other and neither wanted to show that they had a shared interest, even if Sansa didn't know what that interest was.

“Yes. We all were concerned. The guards came to our chambers the other night. Tossed everything. They also searched Petyr's brothel.” Arya added. Margaery nodded, knowing that their home was searched. She suspected them but was intelligent enough not to pry. Both Baelish and Sansa had been dear allies to her family and had enough to drag down the Tyrells if they needed to. They would be foolish to toy with them if they wanted Margaery to remain Queen and their family's standing in the Seven Kingdoms. 

“I heard Jaime speaking with Tommen and Tywin about searching your chambers and the brothel. He seemed rather annoyed that he didn't find Tyrion there. Tywin said that only a fool would hide Tyrion in the same place that he had been living for months and that your husband was anything but foolish. He also seemed to believe that your husband had nothing to do with Tyrion escape.” Margaery eyed Sansa with a curious smile. 

“He would be right about that. Petyr was home with me all night.”

“Yes, trying to impregnate my sister with twins.” Arya muttered into her cup with a smirk. Her eyes were on her sister with a mischievous glint in them. Margaery inhaled in shock as she took a sip of his tea. She started coughing and Arya patted her on the back. Sansa grew bright red and she couldn't help but feel embarrassed about her sister words. It was no secret that her and her husband were physical with one another but it was embarrassing to hear her baby sister comment on it. 

“Arya!” 

“I take it that the baby isn't putting a damper on your love life.” Margaery snickered at Sansa's red face. Arya was wearing a smirk and Sansa knew that her dear sister was going to pay for that comment. She knew it was payback for Sansa dragging her to this luncheon. While Arya liked Margaery, she was not one to sit around and socialize. Sansa begged her sister to come and Arya reluctantly agreed. “How is the baby doing?”

“Well. Constantly moving and sleeping is all but impossible.” It was honest. When she had been younger, watching her mother carry her siblings, Sansa had idealized the idea of pregnancy and birthing children. Now, she saw the misery and discomfort that her mother hid from her. While she loved the child she carried, she couldn't wait to him or her to be born because she knew that it was only going to get worse as the child grew. “And lets not talk about my desire to cry at the drop of a hat or how I'm starving all the time. Thank you for the lemon cakes by the way.”

“Of course.” Margaery replied as she watched her friend eat another cake. She had cornered Baelish the day before, asking if there were any particular foods that Sansa had been wanting lately because Margaery wanted to ensure that there were foods Sansa would be able to eat. Without hesitation, Baelish told her lemon cakes but also warned her to stay away from serving coffee as the smell has been making her nauseous. Margaery thanked him vowing to only serve tea. “You're beginning to show. Your gowns no longer hide the bump as well as they used to.” 

“I know. I feel as though I'm spending gold left and right with needing new gowns and items for the nursery.” Her bump appeared to grow every day. She wasn't huge yet, knowing she had months to go but it didn't make it any more comfortable. She found that a corset was impossible to wear now thus making her wear dresses that didn't require them. Those dresses were tighter on her, thus making the bump more apparent. She had ordered more loose fitting dresses to be made for when her stomach was extremely large and it would be impossible to hide. 

“You know there is a rumor going around that you are with child.” Margaery laughed and Sansa rolled her eyes. It didn't surprise her, it was bound to happen. Pregnancy was not something she could hide forever. She knew that Cersei was aware of the child, Baelish had already told her so. However, the Queen Mother had far more pressing matters than worrying about the whoremonger's wife being with child. “Some question whether the child is Lord Baelish's.”

“What?” That did surprise and infuriate Sansa.

“You can't be surprised Sansa.” Arya added, seeming completely unfazed by the news. “Petyr owns a brothel and you are known to be there frequently. Some people are going to question.” Sansa opened her mouth but closed it in irritation. Arya just rolled her eyes at her sister before speaking again. “Please, if anyone knew the two of you it would be obvious that you wouldn't go to bed with anyone other than Petyr and Petyr would murder a man who even attempted to take you to bed.” 

“She is right Sansa. The people who toss the idea around are drunken lords who have nothing better to talk about. Then again, I haven't heard a word of it since the King's death. People are distracted by juicer gossip and the talk of your marriage bed is just an afterthought.” It didn't make her feel better but she was bound to have words with her husband to find out who exactly was spreading such lies. “Tell me about the nursery.”

“Well, Jaime's men made a mess of everything but it is being put back together.” The image of the blankets and clothes on the floor of the nursery infuriated her but not much was done and she had several months to prepare. “Petyr had Luwin send the crib we slept in as child from Winterfell as well as a few other pieces from the nursery there and clothes. I wanted the baby to sleep in something from our family. He also had several silk blankets ordered with the mockingbird embroidered on it.”

“Are you making anything yourself?” Margaery asked, appearing more interested than Sansa would have assumed. Margaery was planning on spending the rest of her life with Tommen and part of that involved giving the King children. As a new bride, it was something she had to consider. Even though she was no blushing virgin, something Tommen was well aware of, soon she would no longer use moon tea in order to avoid pregnancy. 

“Yes. Petyr had ordered some emerald green silk that arrived a few weeks ago. I am making a canopy to go over the crib with matching pillows. The mockingbird will be embroidered on one side and a direwolf on the other.” The thoughts of the child's nursery made her happy. She enjoyed putting the nursery together with dreams of her child sleeping there. She had lost the dreams of children long ago but her fantasies were back in full force with the realization she was going to be a mother. Baelish adored how happy this child made her. He often said that he would give her a hundred children if they all made her this happy. She responded by asking whom he expected to bear these children. 

“It sounds lovely.” Margaery stated in a dreamy voice. Sansa wondered if she had thought about children when Margaery was engaged to Joffrey or if the thought terrified her. Sansa remembered when she realized the monster Joffrey was and wondered how she would protect her children from the monster that was their father. She was certain that her friend had the same thoughts about Joffrey. However, Sansa could see Tommen being a gentle father who loved his children. “Does Lord Baelish mind having the direwolf in the nursery?” 

“No. When Petyr and I have a son he will be the heir to both Harrenhal and Winterfell. I want the man who becomes Warden of the North one day to understand his heritage and the life that comes with the North. If I erased it completely then why have Winterfell at all?” She had given the thought to how to raise her children with both the Baelish heritage and the Stark one as well. Both Baelish and Sansa agreed that while their son is a Baelish, he will have Stark blood. She knew that her children would never have the virtue the Starks are known for but she at least wanted them to know where they came from.

“I like the idea of my nieces and nephews knowing Stark history.”

“Me too.” Sansa smiled at her sister. Margaery didn't comment but she smiled at her friend. She knew how hard it was for Sansa to lose her entire family. Margaery felt a bit naive that she hadn't thought about Winterfell. Most men wouldn't be so keen to allow the mother's family having influence over the children, Robert Baratheon not withstanding. 

“Maybe if you have girl and I have a boy or visa versa we can join our houses!” 

“It's a bit early for that, isn't it?” Sansa asked and Margaery chuckled. “I'm sure Petyr will have plenty to say when it comes to the marriages of our children but I personally just want this one to be born before I decide who my son or daughter in law is going to be.” Sansa placed her hand on her growing bump and caressed it lovingly. She couldn't imagine her child as a grown adult and she had a long time until she had to face that reality. 

“I'll speak to Tommen, I'm sure he will see things my way.” Margaery chuckled and Sansa rolled her eyes. She said nothing but allowed Margaery to dream up an alliance. Baelish never said anything but Sansa could assume that he had plans for their children. She had a sudden flash of Baelish holding their infant child and she felt a tingle in her stomach. The baby kicked and she smiled. “See! I knew you would see it my way!” 

“We'll see.” Sansa said no more on the subject. She couldn't make any sort of promises at the moment without consulting her husband. And truth be told, she didn't want to promise her unborn child to someone else. She wanted to be able to bond with the child before he or she grew. “Have you and Tommen talked about children at all?” 

“No. Tommen is just getting used to being King. He is nervous about the idea of taking on a wife and children haven't come up. I feel as though the conversation will not happen until I'm actually pregnant. ”Margaery chuckled as she drank her tea and ate a lemon cake. “Can you imagine Cersei's face when she realizes I'm carrying her grandchild?”

“I'm sure she will be ill when it is announced.” Arya laughed and got a wicked smile on her lips. Sansa got that nervous feeling in her stomach at the look on Arya's lips. It was that grin she wore when she had just pulled some sort of prank on one of her family members. Before Sansa and Arya had grown close, when Sansa would anger Arya the elder girl always knew that something was coming for her just by looking at her sister's grin. “Perhaps you should have the wedding night suite right next to hers so she is forced to hear your wedding in full force. Just like Robb was forced to listen to yours Sansa!” 

“Arya!” 

“My my, your martial bed is interesting Lady Baelish!” Margaery chuckled. The bride turned and looked at the youngest girl. “And you're devious! I don't think Cersei would be able to look either me or Tommen in the eye if she heard such things and between us, I can be quite loud!” Arya spat into her tea, not expecting her future queen to admit that she was not going to be a virgin on her wedding night. Sansa knew of course but never told the Arya that. “Was your brother able to look at you the morning after your wedding?” 

“No.” Sansa answered, thinking on her brother fondly. Margaery reached over to pat Arya on the back to sooth her cough. She refused to continue with the topic of the relations she shared with her husband. She had already divulged far too much with Margaery and Arya had no desire to know more than she already did. “Tommen is nervous about the wedding?”

“I think so. He never expected to be King and he is being saddled with a wife. Marriage is one thing in theory but another in practice. I don't think he realizes that yet.” Her voice was small but just as quickly as the small voice appeared it was gone and in its place was a bright smile. “But he loves me and I'm certain he will get over his nerves soon enough.” 

“Do you love him?” Arya asked. Margaery paused as she put her teacup back on the saucer. She recovered quickly but didn't answer. Her silence told Sansa everything she needed to know. While Margaery preferred Tommen over Joffrey, anyone would; it did not necessarily mean she was in love with him. It made Sansa feel relieved, knowing that Margaery's emotions would not cloud her judgment if something were to go wrong.

“What about you Arya? Any suitors sniffing around? Should we hear wedding bells for you?” Margaery asked and it took everything Sansa had not to laugh out loud. She knew her sister perfectly and she knew that Arya would only go down the aisle kicking and screaming. Arya had more than once stated that she never wanted to marry and she never wanted to become some great lady of some great house. It wasn't her destiny. Her destiny was something far darker. 

“I'd rather be beheaded for treason first.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is happier than most and I think it's sweet. I needed to show that time is passing since Joffrey's death and how the Kingdom would move on from it. Let me know your thoughts!


	85. Chapter 85

Chapter Eighty Five

The wedding was small. No special visitors traveled for the occasion. Only the members of the court who practically lived there were present. The Tyrells had never left after Margaery's and Joffrey's wedding, thus the majority of her family was there. However, none of the extended Baratheons nor Lannisters attended. The few Baratheons that were left, seeing that there were few, did not want to come celebrate the King's marriage. While they were not openly hostile, because they were not foolish, they did not support Tommen on the throne. Their displeasure stemmed both from Stannis's execution and Renly's exile. 

Not a single word had been heard from either Renly, or Stannis's daughter. Cersei had sent a few men to look for Renly, fearing he would rally banner-men from the Stormlands to riot against King's Landing however his whereabouts remained unknown and with the current state of affairs, it seemed no one minded. The few men who were searching for him were assigned elsewhere. 

The guests were not the only parts of the wedding that were low key. The decorations were minimal and the food simple but delicious. Even Margaery's dress was simple. It was different from the dress she married Joffrey in and it was clear that it was new. It was gold instead of white with a fancy design. The dress widened at the hips, making a rather beautiful hoop effect while the train trailed behind her. Her hair was simply curled and pushed to the side of her head. 

The ceremony was short and the reception was held out in the courtyard, just like the wedding with Joffrey was held. However, Sansa felt that there was a lighter atmosphere in the air. Perhaps it was because Sansa was not involved with a plot to kill the groom. In fact, Sansa was enjoying the reception heartily as was her husband. Baelish kept holding her, dancing with her and making it plainly obvious how smitten he was with his wife.

When Sansa told her husband of the rumors going around that the child might not be his, he was less than pleased. He admitted that he heard some rumblings and Varys, before he committed treason by freeing Tyrion, had heard the same rumors. It wasn't one of the juicier bits of gossip running in the mill but it still bothered Baelish slightly. He was rather overly proud that he got his wife with child, a sign of masculinity or some other male pride, and the thought that someone would doubt that irritated him. While Baelish wouldn't act on the rumors, because he had more serious issues to contend with, he would be overly affectionate with Sansa while those spreading the rumors were in their presences. To humor her husband, Sansa returned those affections. 

They were enjoying the festivities and the wine was flowing freely. Despite the easy access to the wine, Baelish was still nursing his first goblet. He was never one to overly drink to the point of drunkenness. He liked to always have his wits. Great men have fallen because of the thirst for wine. Part of the late King Robert's death, other than his wife plotting his demise, came from his desire to indulge in Dornish wine. Remaining sober was the very first lesson Baelish ever taught her. 

At the moment, Baelish was kissing and sucking on her neck in public view of the members of the reception. Sansa couldn't help but giggle at the feeling of his beard scratching the side of her neck. She pushed his shoulder, urging him to stop. He pulled away, raised his eyebrow and tossed her a cheeky smile. Sansa put the tip of her finger under his chin. She grinned at him and brought him in for a kiss. Their lips tangled together as did their tongues. They only pulled apart when a cough could be heard in front of them.

“And here I thought it was our wedding day!” Margaery giggled. Baelish and Sansa looked to see Margaery and her new husband standing in front of them, blocking the group of gossipers from their view. Margaery seemed amused by the scene but Tommen couldn't take his eyes off blushing bride. It was clear who had the upper hand in the marriage already. “I wonder if we will be so happy as an old married couple.”

“We've only been married a little over a year. I don't think that makes us an old married couple.” Sansa replied. She leaned in and kissed his lips again. It was a quick peck but enough to indicate a happy marriage. With a smile, Sansa ran her hand through Baelish's hand and then turned to Margaery and Tommen. “Don't let the grey hair fool you, he is quite young at heart.” This caused an outrageous laugh from the King.

“You let her speak about you like this?” The King's eyes were wide and surprised. It was clear that he was not used to being teased. Growing up in a Lannister household, Sansa didn't find that surprising. It also was uncommon for women to be able to tease their husbands. The only example of marriage Tommen had was Robert and Cersei's, a marriage that was neither stable nor pleasant. While Sansa and Baelish's marriage was not exactly healthy, their dysfunction was never directed toward each other. 

“Truth be told your Grace, I like her feisty.” Baelish reached to trace the bare skin on her shoulder but Sansa slapped him away. He chuckled, knowing full well what her reaction would be. He couldn't help that he thought his wife was beautiful and wanted to touch her. Her hair was done up in a beautiful and elaborate bun. Her gown was a royal purple with golden accents. Her shoulders were bare with the top edge of her dress made of gold silk. The sleeves were long with purple and gold silk weaving together. The dress was long and loose, allowing her stomach to grow. 

“Well someone has to keep you in line.” Sansa clipped back with a teasing grin. Her eyes were bright and expressive. Baelish leered at her as the newlyweds burst out laughing. Neither of them were used to seeing the all knowing and cocky Baelish being teased. Baelish was not a man to be picked upon and the fact that he let his wife poke fun at him was something neither of them thought they would see. Sansa kissed her husband's cheek and stood from her chair. She moved her away from the table and went over to Margaery. She held out her arms and the new Queen entered them. She hugged her tightly and whispered in her ear. “Are you happy?”

“For now. I wasn't lying when I said Tommen is kind to me. That’s all I want in exchange for what I know I have to do.” Sansa glanced over to Tommen who was engrossed in a conversation with her husband and it was clear that he heard nothing of what Margaery just said. Sansa pulled away and looked at her friend. She appeared bright and happy, as any bride should be. Sansa, not for the first time, realized that it was all an act for the court to see. Margaery was playing her part, just like Sansa did. Margaery let Sansa see what was underneath the mask she wore and Sansa wondered if it was wise. She wondered if Margaery's trust in her was misplaced. 

“Perfect.” Sansa gave her a kind smile and pulled away. “I think that we should have a luncheon tomorrow, just you and me, and you can give me every other detail.” Sansa's smile turned wicked and naughty. Margaery laughed with a slight blush. For a moment she had to remember that Margaery needed to play the virgin even though she was anything but. 

“I would like that but there are some things that will have to remain private.” Margaery's eyes shifted toward her new husband and smiled. She leaned in and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Tommen’s a bit private.” She chuckled, knowing full well that she would tell Sansa every detail. Tommen was aware of Margaery and Sansa's friendship and approved of it. When the King looked at Sansa, he saw the girl who was victimized by his brother. He didn't see the player in the game of thrones. He thought the girl he fell in love with had a good friend who she could relate to. He didn't see the games they played or the truth between them. He didn't see the darkness that lingered there. 

“Oh please. I told you about the desk.” Sansa's voice was just above a whisper but enough for those around her to hear. Baelish choked slightly on his goblet of wine that he was drinking. Sansa turned to see her husband wiping his mouth with a handkerchief as he gave her an interested look, neither angry or displeased. He just cocked an eyebrow and smirked at her. “Oh don't look at me like that. You're very proud of that fact so don't even try and hide it.” Baelish did nothing more than raise his goblet in surrender. 

“What desk?” Arya asked while Tommen simply rubbed his neck. He may not know the particulars but he was no innocent virgin. He did not desire to know the ins and outs of the Master of Coin's intimacies. Arya looked at those around her and shook her head. “Never mind, I don't want to know. I know far too much already.” The rest began to laugh. Sansa gave her sister a look. She had never told Arya about what happened in their father's solar and she never would. Even though they were extremely close there were some things that even Sansa wouldn't share with Arya. 

“You all seem happy and pleased here.” Cersei's voice came from behind Margaery and she could see Tommen lose his smile. It was no secret that Cersei had tried to stop this wedding from happening but had failed. Now it was obvious that she was drinking away her misery in the red wine she loved so much. Tommen stayed still, his eyes darting between Margaery, who was throwing Cersei and less than pleased look, and his mother. 

“Your Grace.” Margaery greeted and they all curtsied to her. The look upon Cersei's face at being presented with her new daughter in law. Her irritated face seemed to mirror the dark clothes that she was wearing. She was clearly still in mourning. Sansa wondered if she ever would be able to move on and deep down Sansa hoped she never did. Sansa wanted it to be an opened wound that she could turn the knife in deeper and deeper. 

“You seem to be progressing well Little Dove.” Cersei smiled at her, completely ignoring Margaery. Cersei moved toward Sansa and all but pushed the bride aside. Cersei gave Sansa a kind smile, thinking that Sansa was still the sweet and innocent young girl she had met back in Winterfell all those years ago. “How are you feeling?” 

“Big.” Sansa chuckled and put on a false smile. No matter how much it pained her, she needed Cersei to like her for now. Baelish and herself currently had the throne where they wanted it for the time being and they didn't need Cersei to cause problems for them. While Cersei's powers were slipping and her influence decreasing, she still could cause problems within the court. Cersei was more than welcome to focus her fury upon Margaery, as long as it never swayed toward murder. “Petyr insists that I am still as lovely as the day he married me but I feel nothing less than an overgrown cow.” 

“You're carrying my child; of course you're beautiful.” He wore his Littlefinger mask and his tone of voice reflected that. He had told her several times as her stomach grew and the other side affects of pregnancy made themselves apparent, such as her larger breasts, that he still adored her figure. When night came and business had been set aside, Baelish had always had a difficult time keeping his hands off of her but now it seemed that he found her far more attractive than before. 

“Well Littlefinger, I never thought you for someone so sentimental.” Cersei sneered at her husband and it took everything Sansa had not to smack the smile right off her face. While Tommen might not issue punishment with Margaery in his ear, Tywin was still Hand of the King and would not accept someone assaulting his daughter. Tywin pulled his daughter out of a dungeon cell when the King wanted her to rot there. While it was clear that Tywin was limiting his daughter's power in court, she still was his daughter. 

“Mother!” 

“It is fine your Grace.” Baelish said to the King while Arya's eyes darted between the people who surrounded the table. She could see all the false smiles and the tension building. Tommen seemed to be the only one wearing an honest smile. Briefly Arya wondered how long he would be in power with all the sharks in the water looking for power, her brother in law being one of them. “Your mother and I have an understanding. Nothing she says really insults me.” 

“I'm still your Queen.” Cersei reminded him. She took another sip of her goblet of wine. Her bows creased and it appeared as though she smelled something awful the way her nosed crunched. Sansa knew that she was reaching a realization that she had fear for a long time. She was no longer Queen.

“Actually, I believe I am Queen now, Mother.” Margaery interjected with the smile that only she could wear. Cersei looked as though she wanted to pour her red wine on her completely. “Forgive me but sometimes these rules of court baffle me. What is the proper title to call you by now? Queen Mother or Dowager Queen?” The insult was clear but Tommen stood back, not jumping to defend his mother. Sansa was unsure if this was a sign of loyalty to his wife or the weakness of a King. Either way, Margaery was showing Cersei who ruled her son. Tommen wasn't Joffrey and he far more easily controlled.

“There is no need for such formalities.” Cersei replied and it was bitter on her tongue. In order to keep from saying something even more insulting, she continued to drink her wine. Sansa suddenly realized that Cersei and her deceased husband were far more alike than either of them wanted to realize. Both had a liking of wine and sleeping with people outside of their marriage. If they both weren't miserable people, perhaps they could have come to an arrangement and the Seven Kingdoms would have been better for it. 

“Of course I'm sure that you will get used to it in time, I know I will.” Margaery smiled falsely at her again before turning back to Sansa as though she was dismissing Cersei. The tension between Cersei and Margaery had been building since she had come to King's Landing with her father to arrange her marriage to Joffrey. While Baelish was behind the match he never publicly took credit for it; just like he never took credit for any of his other moves. “Hopefully soon, Baby Baelish will have a friend to play with and maybe we can join our families.” 

“This again?! Who knows, maybe both of us will have all sons!” Sansa teased, hoping to move Margaery away from the idea. While Sansa couldn't exactly explain why she didn't want the potential match, she knew deep down that any child Margaery had would never marry one of Sansa's. 

“Well there is always hope for that!” Margaery chuckled. She reached out and touched Sansa's growing stomach. She didn't say anything but she was not one to let people touch her during pregnancy, besides Baelish and the rare moments Arya out reach out to feel the only remaining members of her family. “Either way our children will be friends.” Sansa nodded in agreement. She had every intention of remaining close to the throne. 

“We have several weeks before I labor so you have plenty of time to give us little princes and princesses.” Margaery chuckled. Tommen blushed. Despite the fact that he was the king, the idea of his sex life being public knowledge made his extremely uncomfortable. He looked around realizing that every single person would know what and who he was doing. He looked at his mother, who appeared ill, and knew that she was thinking the same thing. 

“Not too soon I hope.” Cersei stated with a false smile. Margaery looked over to her mother in law with obvious distain. Cersei took another sip of her goblet in order to mask her smirk. “If a child comes too soon many will question who the father is and that is the last thing you want?” Margaery huffed and Tommen didn't appreciate the comment. He moved forward and placed his hand on his mother's arm. 

“Mother, why don't we-”

“Why Cersei, wouldn't you prefer to see your grandchild? I mean you are getting up there in years. Soon you won't even be able to enjoy them.” Her tone was so sweet that it even made Sansa’s stomach ache. While Cersei was still beautiful, Sansa could see dark circles under eyes and it appeared as though parts of her body were sagging. Age was taking a toll and Sansa could tell that in ten years, Cersei would not age well. The look upon Cersei's face could only be described as furious. 

“You know, child labor is dicey business. Many woman don't survive it. If you become one them, remember that this old woman will be the one to raise them.” The threat was clear. Cersei had killed her husband and easily made it look like a hunting accident. Her guilt couldn't be proven. While Tommen would believe her innocence, Margaery knew exactly what the former queen had done. If Margaery's first child was a son, Cersei could easily make it look as though the new queen died from complications after birth. No one would question it because women died in childbirth all the time. Tommen would mourn his wife and live life believing a lie.

“Your Grace I would beg of you not to speak of such things. My wife is weeks away from labor and she is rightly nervous. I would hate for anything to make her more terrified.” Baelish intervened. While he enjoyed the world falling into chaos and Cersei's threat would be a fantastic story to watch unfold, he was truthful in his words. He didn't want Sansa to fear birthing their child. He needed her to be strong because he wasn't certain if he would be. Baelish wasn't a fearful man but he couldn't deny that the thought of Sansa perishing in labor has crossed his mind. “Lady Greyjoy losing her child instilled enough fear in her.” 

“Mother, why don't we find grandfather. There are a few things I need to discuss with him. You know I always value your opinion.” Tommen quickly saw that his mother and his new wife were about to have furious words. He knew that the relationship was perilous and while it bothered him, he knew that his mother was a difficult person to get along with. He was blind to the truth and the games both of them played. 

Tommen linked his arm through Cersei's and pulled her away. He was filling her ears with plans he deemed appropriate for his mother to hear. Margaery was not concerned what he would tell her because she had told him to do so. She has mentioned in the past to Tommen that it would be best to humor Cersei because blocking her out completely would make her reckless. Tywin wanted nothing more than to put his daughter in a tower as he had done when she was a child but he couldn't do that completely. 

As they walked away Sansa watched Margaery's face lose the fake smile she had been wearing and relax into one of completely fury. Sansa realized that there was going to be a war fought between the two of them. It would be an interesting battle to see. However, if that was the case, Sansa knew she would have to distance herself from Margaery. While she was working slowly to dismantle the Lannisters, neither Sansa nor her husband could afford to get in the middle of a war fought between Cersei and Margaery. While she may not know all the details, there was a bigger game being played and she couldn't afford to be side tracked for it. Margaery turned and placed her palms on the table and leaned forward. Her shoulders were squared and her nails dug into the wood. Sansa placed her hand on her shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. Margaery's eyes turned up and looked directly into Baelish's. 

“I want her gone.” 

“Is that a command My Queen?” Baelish asked but Margaery didn't respond. Baelish chuckled slightly and Sansa could see him run his tongue over his teeth. His lips perked out and he looked at Margaery as though he was calculating his words carefully. “I didn't mistake you for Arya.” Arya's brows creased in confusion, not understanding where he was taking this but Margaery never moved her gaze. “She is impatient. Waiting is not one of her strong suits. Perhaps if you wait long enough, you can savor her demise.”

“They say a lion always strikes first.”

“Look around you.” As though on instinct, Margaery obeyed him. Her eyes traveled over the guests at her own wedding. “You're a smart woman. You see the games being played. Look at the deaths that have happened here. Look at the lives ruined. All of it is because the lion already struck, long ago. You won't win the long game by being impatient. Trust me. Cersei is a fool and one day her mistakes will catch up to her and you will be here to see it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I'm hoping that my American readers have a great holiday weekend..and those who are not American, have a fantastic weekend anyway! 
> 
> I had a review last week asking how far along Sansa's pregnancy was. The answer is 24 weeks in this chapter. We still have time and so much will happen before the child is born. 
> 
> Anywho, let me know what you think!


	86. Chapter 86

Chapter Eighty Six 

It was early morning, the sun had barely risen. It was one week after the wedding of Tommen and Margaery. It was nothing more than an average day. Life had moved on in the Seven Kingdoms and at court. The rumors of Tommen's passionate nature spread quickly and many young girls would giggle at the sight of him. He didn't notice because Tommen was not what one would call observant. He was a follower sitting on the Iron Throne. 

When Sansa had heard the rumors she couldn't help but watch Cersei. She could see that Cersei was swallowing the thought of her son lying with a woman she hated with difficulty. She heard it from giggling servant girls, whispering about how loud the newlywed couple was. While she believed that Cersei had indeed heard the rumors from servants, Sansa knew that Margaery arranged for the news of her bedding to reach Cersei. 

While Margaery respected Baelish's advice, she couldn't help but toy with Cersei. The past week had been nothing more than passive aggressive fire between the two of them. Neither would make outright moves against the other. Cersei was being held back by her father while Margaery had both her grandmother and Baelish whispering in her ear. They were at a stalemate, having to tolerate one another. At some point, one of them would break and Sansa wasn't clear on who it would be. 

Sansa decided to push Margaery and the ongoings of court out of her mind. She knew that it was going to be an interesting day, so she woke early and decided to spend the morning at the brothel meeting with the girls. While she didn't interact with the patrons directly, unless there was a disgruntled customer, Sansa wanted to know everything that went on between her girls and the men they serviced. She wanted to know every secret that she could. 

The brothel itself was still asleep. Not many of the girls were awake and the only customers there were the ones who spent the night in the bed of one of their whores. While she wouldn't say it was pleasant for her girls, both Baelish and Sansa liked it when patrons spent the night because they could charge them more. The longer they used a girl, even if it was just them sleeping in their bed, Baelish continued to charge them gold. Some complained but that was easily handled by the guards. 

While Sansa waited to the brothel to rise, she sat at her husband's desk and read some personal correspondences. While she didn't have many people she wrote to, there was enough to go through. She had her weekly update from Luwin about the ongoings in North as well as a letter from Poole, Jeyne's father. Sansa had written to him, promising the safe return of his daughter. Both Baelish and Sansa were arranging transport of her old friend with the blessing of the King once Theon was found. Tommen was reluctant to release her until Theon was arrested. While she knew that it was Tywin's doing, Sansa couldn't help but agree with the decision. She knew that Jeyne wouldn’t return to her husband, not with the loss of their son, but Sansa wasn't willing to take that risk. 

The next letter was a surprise. It came from the Riverlands and had the Tully seal upon it. Sansa had received a few letters from Riverrun but their correspondence was slim. Roslin had written her when Edmure and she had married, finally taking her name from Stark to Tully. Edmure would write to her on occasion checking in on Arya, wondering if Baelish was treating both of them all right. Sansa would write back easing his fears. However, this letter was different. This letter brought news of the new impending arrival. Roslin was with child and from the sound of it, a few weeks behind Sansa. Roslin asked that once Sansa had her child and the child was able to travel, that perhaps their children could get acquainted. There was no hint of betrothals or joining houses. Roslin just said that once Harrenhal was completed, they would only be a day or two away from each other. She wondered if their children could be friends. 

“Sweetling.” Sansa looked toward the doorway, seeing that her husband was standing in the doorway. She smiled at him as she felt her heart skip. She still felt that nervousness inside of her when she gazed upon him. The back of her hand tingled as it did the very first time he kissed it. She remembered those early days of them sneaking around Winterfell. She enjoyed the power she had now and the game. She enjoyed her revenge and watching those she hated scramble. 

“Is it done?” Baelish shook his head and Sansa sighed. She had thought she would have heard the bells by now. She stood from her chair and walked towards Baelish. She kissed his cheek and saw that his face seemed worried. She pulled away slightly and looked deeply into her husband's eyes, trying to read him. “What is it?” 

“I got word from a few of my men. They found Theon.” It felt as though her core was breaking. She sucked in a deep breath and her body froze. Baelish saw that his wife was starting to have a mental breakdown. He placed his hands on her shoulders and began to rub them tenderly. He hoped that it brought her some comfort. “The found him in Dorne. It appears that he was planning on crossing the Narrow Sea to travel to Essos.” 

“They caught him?”

“Yes.” Sansa gave a slightly but relieved laugh. Her hand went to her lips and she continued to laugh. Baelish simply watched her as the tears began to stream down her face. He pulled her close and held her. He knew that her laughter wasn't a happy one but it was only because she didn't know how else to react. Joffrey was dead causing her to focus on pulling down the rest of the Lannisters and seeing Sybil punished for the crimes against her family. The hope of Theon being caught was a distant and one she thought might not be captured. “They are bringing him to the Capitol. He will be here in a few weeks.”

Sansa nodded but wasn't able to speak. Her breathing quickened and her heart was beating quickly. Soon there was a sharp pain in her chest that she couldn't bring herself to feel. She placed her hand on the bump when her stomach began to turn. Quickly her hand flew to her mouth as bile began to rise up in her throat. Her feet moved across the elegant carpeted floor toward a golden basin. She hadn't eaten much that morning but the water she had been drinking spilled into the beautiful basin. 

Baelish followed her and pulled back her red hair. He ran his fingers through it, hoping to be comforting just has he had done several times before. While the sickness most woman felt during the very beginning of their pregnancies seemed to fade for all but Sansa. Every now and again the sickness would hit her and if Baelish was around, he always held her close; comforting her. Once she was finished, she leaned back and he wrapped his arms around her. 

“Feeling better?” Sansa shook her head negatively. Baelish poured her a glass of water, allowing her to wash her mouth out before spitting into the basin. Once finished, Baelish led her toward the sofa, sitting her down before taking the seat next to her. He watched her closely, never taking his hands off of her. Her ice blue eyes were moving rapidly as though she was processing everything. He could see that her mind was working through the idea of Theon coming to King's Landing. “I spoke with the King before coming and finding you. I pulled him out of bed actually.” 

“How did he handle that?” Her tone was humorless. In the back of her mind she knew that Baelish never would have been able to pull Joffrey or Robert out of their royal slumber. Yet Tommen was more passive than his predecessors. “And what did he say?” Baelish didn't speak but instead handed her an elegant piece of parchment. The seal held a beautiful Baratheon stag and Sansa knew it was from Tommen even though he had no Baratheon blood in him. She broke the seal and with shaky hands began to read the words in front of her. 

It was a promise. The king promised that her family would be avenged and that when Theon arrived in King's Landing, he would answer for his crimes. Tommen did not know what his punishment would be but only that he would answer for the murder of Catelyn and Rickon Stark. Tommen took no pleasure sentencing Tyrion to death for murdering the King but had no choice in the matter. While murdering members of a prominent household was a horrendous crime, it didn't always call for death. Sansa wondered and hoped that Tommen had it in him to call for Theon's head. Sansa didn't know if she would be able to handle the thought of him still being alive. 

“I'll have to thank him.” Sansa whispered, reading the words again. She would just have to have Margaery use her feminine whiles on her husband to persuade him to end Theon's life. There is no other man than her husband that Sansa could bear the thought of touching her. If she had not been tainted by what Joffrey had done to her and was settled with a less pleasing husband, perhaps Sansa would have gone to King Tommen's bed on her own. However, Sansa knew that in this world, that move would never happen. Neither Baelish nor herself would allow such a thing to happen. 

“He hasn't done anything yet.” Baelish said to her with concerned eyes. He knew that she was shaken from nervousness and fear. He reached out and pulled her into his arms. He kissed the top of her head. Her stomach turned again and Sansa stretched out on the sofa. She placed her head in his lap, causing Baelish to run his fingers through the red locks. It was the feel of his fingers that was more soothing to her. “I promise he will bleed. One way or another, he will bleed.”

“What is becoming of me if the thought of murder brings me comfort?” It scared her. Years ago she could never imagine the person she has become. There was an ice coldness deep inside of her and only a few things brought warmth to her. Baelish was one of those things but at the same time she knew that he made that coldness grow. She was becoming just like him. “Have I become a monster? I had thought that Joffrey's death would give me that same comfort but I felt nothing inside. It was like I was cold and filled with a dark hole. I'm glad he is gone and I don't regret my actions but I'm scared of what I am turning into. I'm scared of the monster I'm becoming.”

“We're all monsters deep down. We all have darkness inside us. If we didn't we would be dead by now. It’s a cold and cruel world that we live in. If we are not cold and cruel then it will swallow us all.” Sansa knew that his words were true. She knew what it was like to be a weak and young woman who believed in fairy tales. Those fantasies ruined her and tore her to shreds. It was a cold and cruel lesson that she was forced to endure. “You can embrace it and use it or allow it suffocate you until it takes everything from you.”

“It's chaos and chaos is a ladder.” This caused Baelish to chuckle and Sansa smiled at the rumble in his chest. She turned over on her back and looked up at him. Baelish took her hand and kissed it before she cupped his cheek. She smiled fondly at him. The shock and relief slowly started to edge away. She put the cold darkness that had overcome her for a moment back under lock and key. She built that wall back up and blocked all the unpleasant emotions away. The pregnancy has taken a toll on her emotions. One moment she was happy but then found herself in tears. Ever since that awful night in the Godswood, Sansa had always had control of her emotions; with only a few slips. “You told me that once.”

“Our wedding night. I remember it fondly.”

“I was so angry with you.” Sansa tapped his cheek lightly and Baelish couldn't help but smirk at her. The one time she smacked him across the face flashed in his mind, as well as the events that followed. Sansa sat up and straddled her husband's lap; pushing the silk skirt of the dress up slightly. Baelish wrapped around his around her growing waist as Sansa placed her hands on his shoulders. “Thank you, for finding Theon.”

“Don't thank me yet. Thank me when Theon's head is on a spike.” One of his hands moved downward slowly. He reached the end of her skirt and slipped his hand inside of it. Sansa giggled slightly as his hands brushed against her slit. He felt the moisture on his fingers. Sansa was reaching that time in her pregnancy where she could never have enough of him. She would go from crying in misery to wanting her husband to throw her down on a table and have his way with her. 

“Are you certain? I'm sure I can make it worth your while My Lord.” Sansa hissed as Baelish's fingers found her pearl. Her hips jerked forward, grinding against his hand. He moved his fingers in a circular motion causing her to groan against him. She began to rotate her hips, creating a rhythm with his fingers. She could feel the bulge growing in his trousers. The sounds of sex could be heard through the walls and it always made Sansa more aroused in moments she spent in her husband's arms. 

“You always make it worth my while, My Lady Wife.” Baelish's free hand pushed the silk up and over her stomach, allowing the pregnancy to be in full view. He rested his hand upon the bulge, caressing it lovingly. His face remained lustful but there was a hint of pride in his eyes. It was always there when he looked at her. She had come so far from being that young broken girl he corrupted back in Winterfell over a year and a half ago. Baelish moved his fingers and put them inside of her; thrusting them in and out. “You are giving me a child, an heir. I should be the one thanking you. I should be the one pleasuring you, day in and day out for you have done so much more for me.”

“What if I have a girl? A girl cannot be an heir.” Her voice was breathless and her eyes grew hooded. Her lips were slack as the pleasure was taking over. Baelish adored seeing her so besotted and lost in his affections. He chuckled when a moan echoed from her throat, her hands gripping his shoulders causing her nails to dig into his shoulders. 

“Then we will just have to have another, and then another.” Sansa pressed down, taking more of Baelish's fingers inside of her. She called out his name as his fingers began to increase their pace, both inside her and the one pressed to her nub. Her eyes fluttered open and she saw how dark his eyes had grown. They devoured her, much like they had during that first dinner at Winterfell when they had met. She leaned down and took his lips with her own. Their lips pulled apart quickly when the need for air became apparent. Baelish's tone was breathless. “I plan on having you so often that we will have many children. One of them is bound to be a boy.”

“Petyr!” She cried out his name when the climax hit her like a force. Baelish could feel her muscles clench around his fingers. While Sansa continued to ride her high, he pulled his drenched fingers from her and sat them on the sofa, staining the satin. In the back of his mind, he realized that he was going have to his sofa cleaned. Once her climax had passed and reality became apparent to her, Baelish pulled her close, sucking on her neck.   
Sansa pushed him away slightly and dragged her hands down his chest; feeling the silk under her fingers. When she reached his trousers, Sansa began to undo the strings; allowing his member to spring free. She placed her hands on the back of the sofa while he took himself in hand. She lifted herself up on her knees and spread her legs apart a bit farther. She aligned herself with his member and sank down upon him. The feel of him filling her up inside caused both of them to groan. 

Baelish placed his hands on her hips, digging his nails into her skin. Their eyes locked onto one another and never broke. Sansa lifted her hips and then sank back down upon him. She repeated the motion over and over again but never picked up the pace. Their movements were slow and tortuous but neither was going to hurry their movements. It was as though they were in their own little world that no one would be able to disrupt. 

“You have given me so much. Taught me so much. A child is the least I can give you.” Her voice was breathless and hoarse. The feeling of him and the pleasure pulsing at her core caused it difficult to speak. Looking at her husband, she could tell that his feelings were the same. His mouth was slack and his chest was rising and falling quickly. His breathing was heavy but he refused to stop the movements of his hips. He continued to move inside of her and feeling her. “This child is just the beginning.” 

“Seven hells.” Baelish grunted. He could feel that he was close to his release. Sansa continued her assault, knowing that she would feel him spill inside of her soon. She couldn't help but smirk at him. She enjoyed watching him unravel, knowing that she was the one who caused it. She could feel his nails digging deeper into her skin. She continued to ride him, gazing into his eyes; urging him to come in side her. “You'll be the death of me.” 

“And what a wonderful death it will be.” The husky rasp in her voice made Baelish lose it. He froze and arched, spilling his seed into her. She felt him go limp inside and despite the fact that Sansa hadn't finished, for she had already climaxed once, she enjoyed the sight of him completely vulnerable. She lifted herself off of them, causing his flaccid member to simply rest on his trousers. Sansa sat down beside him and rested her head against his shoulder. When Baelish relaxed and his glazed eyes looked at her, she smirked at him. “Are you happy My Lord? Was your gift satisfying enough?” 

“Sweetling. I do not think I am up for banter at the moment. Let me recover first.” His tone was satisfied and it caused Sansa to chuckle. She pulled herself from the sofa and allowed the silk dress to fall down over her, covering the baby bump. She turned to the side and Baelish could easily see his child growing through the silk. Her pregnancy could no longer be hidden. Sansa moved toward the other side of the room where a mirror was hung. Baelish watched as she fixed her hair and made herself presentable. “How are you feeling now?”

“Better. Thank you.” She turned and leaned against the wooden table. She crossed her arms and cocked her head to the side, watching as her husband tucked himself away. Just like she had done merely seconds before, Baelish adjusted himself and stood. He moved toward the water basin that was beside her and washed her off of his hands. He smirked at her, their tryst fresh in his mind. She looked at him with a wide and teasing smile. “You always know the right thing to say to make me feel better. You've taught me so much.” 

“But you've learned it all. Everything I've taught you, you've absorbed everything and put it to use.” Baelish put his freshly washed hands on her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. Sansa leaned into him easily, resting her head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. He was so gentle with her after their most intimate moments. He always had been ever since their very first time together. It was so unlike him and the Littlefinger mask he wore. If Sansa ever told someone what he was like when they were alone, she was certain that no one would believe her. “Plus I'm a master manipulator. I know all the right things to say.”

Sansa snorted and hit his chest lightly. She shook her head and pulled away from him. She narrowed her eyes in mock fury. She knew that her husband was not above saying the right thing in the right person’s ear but never with her. In the early days he may have seduced her but he never manipulated her once he realized that it was not the way to her heart. He made her his equal and she knew it. However, they often teased one another about being pieces in their game. 

“No matter what, thank you. For Theon. Mother and Rickon's death feels so long ago now that I just don't know how to process the idea of justice. I thought it would never happen.” The last time she saw her mother and brother was the day after she married her husband. They said goodbye and she remembered Catelyn's tear stained face as she waived as the carriage pulled toward the King's Road. “Part of it doesn't feel real. I catch myself sometimes thinking about Winterfell and I forget that they're not there, waiting for a letter from me or a visit. Then I remember.” 

“If I could erase their deaths I would. All of them. If I could stop Sybell from ordering the murder of Robb, I would. I would bring back Ned as well and deal with his disapproving stares at having me for a son-in-law. Sometimes I can still feel him chocking me as I demanded your hand in marriage.” Sansa giggled at how much her father hated Baelish but dealt with him anyway once he accepted the inevitable. “I would bring back Rickon and even Bran if I could. I would bring back Catelyn for you and not because I once loved her. I would do anything for you if I had power but sadly I can not control everything, no matter how much I wish I could.” 

His words touched Sansa and she couldn't help was kiss him. It was a gentle kiss and one the told him that no matter what, she was always on his side. The kiss told him that she would do anything for him and all he had to do was ask. Bells in the kingdom sounded but their lips stayed locked. The bells only grew louder and louder, signaling that something in the kingdom was wrong. The broke apart and looked at each other, communicating silently. 

A name had been given.

A third name.

A final name.

“And life continues. The game moves on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, who is the final name? Ideas?


	87. Chapter 87

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Welcome back. Just so you know, I'm really proud of this chapter. I think its some of my best writing.

Chapter Eighty Seven 

They said that Harrenhal was haunted. People died left and right with rumors of their ghost roaming the castle. The Red Keep was being compared to the haunted Harrenhal. The Seven Kingdoms were in a time of peace and yet more people had died at court now than in the last hundred years. First King Robert Baratheon was killed during his royal hunt. Next, Lancel Lannister killed himself in his own chamber followed by Ser Meryn Trant's death during a false assassination attempt on the new King. Three separate deaths to begin it all. It was said that death comes in sets of threes. Robert, Lancel, Meryn, a set of three. 

Then Shae was shot down in the middle of the throne room in front of the entire court, her body left to bleed out in her lover's arms. Her death was no mystery. The Stark murders followed. Both Ned and Robb Stark murdered in their own chamber. Trails of blood smeared all along the wooden floor and stone walls. The murder ran free and rumors about how they died whispered about, the truth remaining unknown. Another set of three; Shae, Ned and Robb. 

And then King Joffrey, brutally murdered on his wedding night. Some said that it was the most brutal murder to ever take place in the Red Keep. The mess that was left behind was far worse than anything men had seen outside of a battle. The blood and death left behind during Ned and Robb's couldn't compare to Joffrey death. Some wondered if his death would be the last and whatever curse that was over the Red Keep would end with the death of the King. It began with the King's death, surely it must end with it as well.

Until the bells tolled again. Fear echoed through the red stones and into the heart of everyone in the castle. They wondered who died and what the manner of death was. They prayed to the Seven that the death was not someone that they loved. The fear was small because the death centered around the royal family and those closest to them. Minor lords and ladies need not worry about the death of their children or spouses. They were safe because they were not part of the small war that raged between the royal family and the manipulations of the Baelish family. 

Sansa led her sister, arm in arm toward the crypts where the Silent Sisters worked over the body. They both wore dark colors out of respect for the recent death in King's Landing. Sansa's hair was down, her red curls almost around her waist. She had black diamonds in her hair, keeping it out of her face. Arya was dressed beautifully as well and did so without complaint. She reveled in this death because she knew that the words from her lips were the reasons why death took another gift. 

They entered the balconies high above the Great Hall where the body was laid out. It was easier up here, to watch those who come and go. They had no real connection to the recently departed but Sansa felt the need to see the body. No one would think twice if she moved on without offering her goodbyes but if she made an appearance, she might draw whispers to her. Baelish had warned her that perhaps staying away would be the best option but Sansa refused to listen. Arya knew the Red Keep better than anyone, she had a knack for finding secret passages and had her take a way through the castle that they would not be seen. They saw that down upon the tomb laid a beautiful man with golden hair. 

“The Hand of the King is dead.” Arya whispered and Sansa giggled. They watched the Silent Sister's work over him, preparing him for the afterlife and whatever came next. Sansa knew that her ledger was getting red, as was her sister's. Yet Sansa feared that by the time Arya left this world, her body count would be far higher than her own. Arya appeared to have no qualms with taking someones life, even if it meant giving up a part of herself. Sansa wondered if Ned would be proud to see the darkness that over took his two remaining daughters. 

“Long live Tywin Lannister.” Arya burst out laughing but quickly slapped her hand over her mouth. Luckily the Silent Sisters were too engrossed in their work to notice the sound that was coming from above the balcony. Arya tossed her a look and Sansa just smiled. “What, can't a girl be ironic from time to time? Anyway, the man is dead and let it be.”

“Don't get me wrong, I'm glad that 'the great lion'” Arya stated in a mocking tone “is dead but why him. What purpose does it serve? I would have just ordered Sybil to be dead and be done with it. Why him and why wait so long?” Sansa smiled down at her sister and at her impatience. Baelish tried to preach the long game and waiting for the right moment. Yet, Arya had a temper and she had a tendency to act before thinking. 

“Great things come to those who wait.” Sansa teased but Arya just gave her a look. Sansa rolled her eyes, knowing that her sister sometimes didn't have a sense of humor. “As my husband has told you dozens of times, revenge is like wine. You need to savor it, let it breathe. Pouring a bottle and drinking it directly will only end in a headache. You need to open the bottle and let it set; get comfortable and then, and only when it is ready, pour it.” Arya didn't respond at first but only stared at Sansa with wide eyes. “Watching Sybil suffer by losing her status in life will be enjoyable.”

“You do realize you sound like Cersei right now? Right?” Sansa snorted and laughed. A door below in the Great Hall opened, causing laughter to halt. The Silent Sisters moved away from the Tywin Lannister's body as the Cersei and Jaime entered the crypt. “Well speak of the devil and she shall appear.” Sansa grinned at Arya before turning toward the scene below.

Cersei and Jaime entered the Great Hall, dressed in black and their beautiful blonde hair done perfectly. They were beautiful as they always were. Sansa remembered the first time she saw them, when King Robert had visited Winterfell after Jon Arryn had died. She had wanted to be Cersei so badly and practically worshiped the ground she walked on but now she felt that there was nothing beautiful about Cersei. Baelish had admitted that he had found Cersei attractive and desirable until he learned that her relationship with Jaime went beyond sibling affection. 

“What do you think they are whispering about?” Arya asked and Sansa shrugged. She could only assume it had something to do with their father's death. It was no secret that the morning Tywin had been found, dead in his bed, that his children were distraught. The maester claimed that it was natural and simply his time. However, both Arya and Sansa knew differently. How he actually died would remain a mystery but H'ghar made it into Tywin's chambers, killed him without alerting his guards or Sybil who was sleeping next to him. Sybil had awoken to find her love in bed next to her, dead. Her screams could be heard throughout the Red Keep. 

“Their father most likely.” They both walked up to touch the body as both Arya and Sansa continued to spy on them. Neither Jaime nor Cersei realized that they were being watched. The balcony was covered in shadows and the twins could look but not see anyone who may be lingering there. They were mourning the death of their father and neither thought to look up. Neither could fully believe that their father was gone. “We both know how hard it is to lose a parent. We can't blame them for that.”

“No but at least our father wasn't some corrupt politician.” 

“Watch it. I married a corrupt politician.” Arya didn't reply but instead gave a small smirk at the comment. It was true, Baelish was as corrupt as they come but the difference was that Baelish was on Arya's side. He wasn't an enemy and unlike the purer members of their family, Arya and Sansa were both willing the make deals with corruption in order to satisfy their goals. They were still alive while the rest were cut down before their time. 

“Do you think Father would be proud of us? Of what we've become?” It was a question Sansa had asked herself thousands of times. What would her parents think of her actions? Would Ned have picked Sansa up, covered in Joffrey's blood and still looked at her the same? Would he have cleaned her up, wiped the blood from her as Baelish had? Would he have helped her? Sansa didn't think that he would. She was certain that her mother would look at her as though she was a monster. Catelyn would never be able to support the life she had chosen, once she saw the woman she was tuning into. Sansa looked over to her sister. Arya was responsible for taking three lives and Sansa felt that it was just the beginning for her. Arya's ledger would be dripping with blood. 

“No. He would hate it. He would wear that disappointed look upon his face.” Her mind flashed to the devastated and angry expression he wore when he learned that Sansa had not been a virgin when she married; that moment before he realized his daughter had been raped. “Even after everything Joffrey had done, I don't think he would be able to comprehend what I have done and what I will continue to do. But he would hate himself more than us. He would blame himself and ask where he went wrong.”

“But he's dead.” Arya's face turned to stone and her eyes glared down at the body lying in the sept. His death didn't bring her any closer to what she truly wanted. She wanted Sybil served to her on a silver platter. Sansa's mind flashed to Theon. She hadn't told her sister about his capture and she knew she was going to have to soon, but with Tywin's death, it simply wasn't a good time. “And what about his lover?”

“In time. Soon. We need her to realize what she has lost.” That was the meaning behind Tywin's death; emotional trauma for everyone who had wronged them, not just Sybil. Tywin was the glue that held the Lannister together; remove him and everything would come tumbling down. Those who were in power because of Tywin would no longer be able to hold onto it. 

“They said she screamed.” Arya stated and Sansa gave her a confused look, her mind still on Tywin. “Sybil. They say that when she awoke yesterday morning to see his lifeless body lying next to her, she screamed. She held onto him, crying and screaming for him to wake up. If I didn't know her I would say that her hysteria was born out of love.”

“I think it was.” Arya turned to her sister, completely confused as to what Sansa was saying. It was obvious that Sybil didn't love Tywin, and he didn't love her. They may have shared a bed and their bodies but their lust never touched her heart. “Sybil's husband comes from an old line but their name is fading. They have no influence and the financial state of the Seven Kingdoms all but ruined the last bit of standing left. Lord Westerling died thinking his legacy was dead but Sybil loved power too much. Tywin was able to give her that and all she had to do was give Jeyne in exchange. She was crying for love but not for Tywin.” 

There was a cry down below and both of their heads snapped downward. Cersei cried out in dismay as though the realization and pain was hitting her all at once. Sansa knew that feeling well. She had lived through it more times than she can count. By this point, grief was something she collected and understood. The two remaining adult Lannisters below were the reason why she understood grief so clearly. It was only justice that she was the one who handed them the same thing. They gave her that gift, it was only right that it was she who gave it back. Jaime pulled Cersei into his arms, holding her close. It appeared as though Cersei cried into his chest. 

“I guess the Kingslayer is Lord of Casterly Rock and I wonder who King Tommen will appoint as the Hand now. Jaime?” Arya snorted. There were so many possibilities as to what could go wrong if Jaime was appointed Hand of the King. They might as well just give the pin to Cersei and be done with it. Jaime just didn't have the intelligence or patience for the position. Cersei would use him to achieve her agendas. 

“No. I will make sure Jaime never becomes the Hand. Margaery would never allow it anyway.” It would be too risky. Margaery knew that Cersei wanted her gone and she would never allow her enemy to gain so much power. One of the reasons why it was important for Tywin to stay alive until after Margaery married Tommen was because if Tywin had died, Cersei would never have allowed her son to marry her. Both Baelish and Sansa knew that which is why they caution Arya going to H'ghar to soon. 

“Is there a move that the two of you never think about?” The game tired Arya. She found that it was much easier to simply be given a name and go after it. Once she had a target and a purpose, imagining how they would die was easy. Up until this point, she had been the one whispering the names; Lancel Lannister, Meryn Trant, Tywin Lannister, all death warrants she had signed. Now, she wondered what it would be like if she took the life herself. It was an itch she was terrified of scratching but she knew that it was only going to grow stronger. Even Sansa, her perfect and pristine sister knew what it was like to cause the blood to flow. Baelish and Sansa were better at the long game; the moves and twists but that isn't who Arya was. Arya was something else entirely. 

“Unfortunately, my husband can't predict everything. Robb and Father are proof of that. I guess Mother and Rickon as well.” She knew that if her husband could have foreseen the events that were set in motion then he would have stopped it from happening; some way somehow he would have figured out something to stop their deaths.

“Despite the pedestal you've put him on, Petyr can't do everything.” Arya teased but Sansa narrowed her eyes. She didn't believe that she put Baelish on a pedestal but Arya saw a side to their marriage that the rest of the court didn't. The court saw Littlefinger while Sansa showed them the broken daughter of Winterfell, sold to the highest bidder who tried to make the best of her situation. They would see glimpse of who she really was but the court had a short mind. Arya saw through all of that; she saw the tender regard between them and sometimes, she would see intimate moments she wished she hadn't. 

“I never said he could.” Sansa knew best what his limitations were. Her husband thrived on chaos and was not above putting things in motion. However, there were many times when her husband did something with no knowledge of what the outcome would be. He would have theories of what might happen and would push for one but prepare for another. He once told her that he played the long game, knowing that one move could affect something that would happen much farther down the line. Sansa remembered the morning of her wedding when Baelish reveled the truth of Jon's parentage. Even to this day, she wasn't sure exactly what game he was playing.

“I know you think the world of him.”

“I do think the world of him, he is the father of my child.” Sansa placed her hand on her growing stomach. The baby was moving constantly; keeping her awake at all hours. She knew that her time was coming soon and part of her wanted it to be over. However, it couldn't come soon enough. Now that Joffrey was dead and gone, she had very little fear that her child would be used as a play thing for the throne; especially since Tywin now had passed as well. Slowly the Lannister kingdom was crumbling and Westeros was a more bearable place for her to raise her child. “But I know he isn't perfect. He makes mistakes.”

“What are they doing?” Arya hadn't heard a word Sansa said. Her gaze was down upon the sept and those who occupied it. Tywin was still lying with the stones over his eyes but the Silent Sisters have completely left him. He was alone with his two remaining children. Cersei and Jaime had always been close, something that was well known through the Seven Kingdoms but the scene below was more than grieving siblings showing affection. 

Jaime had his hand on Cersei's chin, caressing it gently. Jaime was taller than Cersei but not by much. He was looking down at her in a manner that only a lover could. Arya had seen their father look at their mother that way and Baelish, while more lustful, looked at Sansa in the same manner. Arya was observant and could see through it. It was harder to see when Jaime and Cersei were apart, something Tywin tried to achieve even when they both were in the Red Keep together, but together in such an intimate manner their incestuous ways were easy to spot. 

Sansa tried to pull Arya away but her eyes were glued to the scene below. She had hoped that she would be able to pull her away before she saw too much and convince her otherwise. It would be easy to sell the preposterous idea that the Queen Regent was having an incestuous affair with her twin brother, if she didn't see too much. But some things can't remain unseen. If Arya saw too much, she was smart and would easily realize that none of Cersei's children belonged to her deceased husband.

That knowledge was far to valuable to get out. If news that Tommen is not the rightful heir to the throne, uproar could cause tremendous damage to what Baelish had been building. The alliance with the Tyrells would crumble, Tommen would be dethroned and most likely executed. Thousands of people would aim for the throne, causing a war to break out. It would be chaos but not in a way that Baelish enjoyed. Renly would pop out of the woodwork as Robert''s rightful heir and he always had desired following. This was something that needed to be prevented and with Tywin now in the Stranger's unwelcome arms, Tommen's throne would be on shaky ground. Cersei, while not as cunning as she thought she was, would do anything she could to control her son. Baelish knew that Tywin's death was a risk but one he was willing to take. It was inevitable, it allowed both Sansa and Arya to have some closure for their family's murder, and they had a way for him to die without their hands getting to bloody. 

It was time.

Yet, mere inches away from Tywin's body, one of the biggest secrets was about to be revealed. Jaime leaned down and brought his lips to Cersei's. The kiss was gentle and light but far from anything decent siblings would share. Arya's eyes had gone wide and she sucked in a breath. Jaime and Cersei shared sweet kisses for a few minutes before it turned more passionate. Jaime grabbed her and pressed her body to his. There might have been some deniability before but now it was obvious that the Lannister twins were far closer than the rest of the world assumed. 

“Arya let’s go!” Sansa pulled on her sister's arm but the younger girl did not move. Her eyes were glued into the growing embrace below. They were not even inches from their father's dead corpse but neither Cersei nor Jaime seemed to mind. It was the highest insult either of them could think of; but Sansa wasn't sure if either of them were thinking at all. They grieved for their father, that much was obvious, but his death also brought them freedom. Tywin was the one person who stood between them and now that was gone. They were free to express what they wanted and how they felt. Jaime pushed Cersei against the stone alter that Tywin laid upon and covered his body with his. “Arya!” 

Finally after some pulling, Sansa was able to drag Arya farther into the shadows and out into the hall. Arya appeared to walking in a daze, her mind flowing with everything. All the holes that had been plaguing her suddenly seemed to make sense. No rational mind would have thought of such things but here in the harsh light of day, it was plainly shown. Sansa watched her sister in concern, unsure of what her reaction was going to be. As though she wasn't paying much attention, Arya lead them back to their personal chambers while Sansa followed her blindly. 

She all but threw the door open in a furious manner. Baelish, who had been reviewing his ledger popped his head up when they entered. He too was dressed in dark colors. His coat was similar to the one he wore that first day he met Sansa, however the fabric was made of silk and light. Arya turned around quickly, her chest heaving and she had a furious stare upon her face. Sansa approached as though her sister was any angry animal about to attack. Baelish saw the angry pose and stood slowly, his eyes darting between the two of them.

“Did. You. Know?” Arya asked through clenched teeth. Sansa ran through all the excuses she could think of in her mind. Her first instinct was to lie, something she had become extraordinarily good at the last few years. However, Arya could see through her; always had since she found her in the Godswood all those years ago. “Don't lie to me. Did. You. Know?” Sansa looked at her husband and gave him an apologizing look. She knew that he would want her to find a way out; to lie or come up with some clever story. If it was anyone else, she would have but this was Arya.

“Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, thoughts, concerns?


	88. Chapter 88

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI guys. Sorry for the delay. I would also advise that you go back a read chapter 28 before this one. I know that it may seem odd but I mention the events that happen in that chapter a good bit and it might be easier if you read it beforehand.

Chapter Eighty Eight 

“Yes.” One simple word felt like a dagger ripping open a fresh wound. Sansa could almost hear her sister's heart begin to race. While Arya was one of the few people she was the most honest with, Baelish being the only other, there were just some things she needed to keep from her sister. Arya wasn't naive and she knew the realities of the world far more than grown men twice her age. Unfortunately, Sansa would have to put her father in that category. Ned was so blinded by his honor that he sometimes couldn't see how the real world worked. Arya had the misfortune of not having that luxury but there was a protective part in Sansa that wanted to shield her from ugliness. But seeing her sister standing in front of her now, wild hair and wide eyes, Sansa questioned if her secrecy was a mistake. 

“Yes? What do you mean, 'yes'” Arya inched forward as a predatory lion would approach its prey. Sansa didn't move from her spot, knowing that no matter how angry Arya was, she would never strike her sister. Baelish however, didn't have such faith. He stood and made his way to stand near his wife. He didn't block her because he knew that this fight belonged to his wife but if things went badly, he would be there to protect her and their unborn child. “You knew about the Queen's affair with her own brother and didn't think it was important enough to tell me? You talk of bringing down the Lannisters but neglect to tell me the biggest scandal of them all?” 

They stood still, simply glaring at one another. It was a stalemate and Sansa felt as though all her crimes were being thrown at her all at once. Arya stared at her with so much anger and judgment that Sansa’s heart was breaking. Sansa couldn't be sure if it wasn't the child growing inside of her. She found that her emotions were more erratic since getting pregnant but this was so much more than that. This was disappointment in the worst form. So, Sansa could only think of one thing to say.

“Lancel Lannister.” 

“What?” 

“Lancel Lannister.” Arya still said nothing with an unwavering gaze. Out of everything she could have said, Lancel's name was not one of them. Arya wasn't a fool and she could see where her sister's mind was going but she wanted to hear it spoken aloud. “After I was married, we had a conversation. Do you remember?” Arya nodded but wasn't going to give in the easily. “I told you secrets of King's Landing. I told you things that many I wanted to keep hidden. I told you that the Queen had taken a lover.”

“Yes. Yes I know all of this. I gave his name to H'ghar because of it. I wanted to hurt her. I wanted her to feel the pain we felt for Bran! For everything her family has done. She gets to sit pretty with a crown on her head and you simply forget to tell me the biggest thing that could tear her down!” Sansa tried to think of something to say that would make everything better but nothing was coming to her. There was nothing she could think of to get her out of this mess with her sister. She could come up with no lie that would magically fix this. “Well?”

“I told you about Lancel. I told you so many things that day. Do you remember everything else I told you in that carriage ride.” Arya was far too hot tempered to think on everything else other than what she had seen down in that crypt and what Sansa had been hiding from her. However, she knew that Sansa was trying to tell her something and Sansa was not one to be direct. She never was. When they were young and Sansa was hurt, she would lash out and cry certainly, but her true anger would simmer. She would sit on it and tell her things in cryptic ways that Arya had no time for. Yet, Arya wanted answers and if thumbing through her sisters riddles would get them. she would. “What else did I tell you that day?” 

“You told me about Loras and Renly. You told me Renly fled the capitol. You told me about Lancel and Cersei. You told me....” And then it hit her. She remembered the secret that was connected to Cersei's affair. Arya had been blinded by her hatred of Cersei that she had pushed that information to the side. She wanted to hurt Cersei in any way she could. While this certainly would have hurt her, Arya had no proof to act upon it so she pushed it away. She latched onto the one thing she could use, a name and then H'gar came into her life making revenge so much easier. “You told me Cersei killed the King. You also said it wasn't the only secret you knew.” 

“Yes. I told you that Cersei killed King Robert. That is a major secret. The Queen killed the King. By law she should be tried, convicted and executed. That should be enough to bring her down if you have enough evidence. If you don't and you speak of it, it’s enough to be charged with treason. I told you something that could ruin us all but not something else, why?” 

“I don't know! Tell me?!” 

“You're smart Arya. Think about it.” Baelish leaned back against the sofa with a proud grin on his lips. Neither Stark girl were paying him any mind and he knew that. He knew that Sansa would be a wreck later because of this disagreement. She would wonder what she had done wrong but Baelish couldn't help but realize how beautiful she was in that moment. He was the one who always coached her, who taught her and brought her to these realizations. Now, she was in the teaching position, mentoring Arya and pulling her towards the conclusions she needed. “Think about what you just learned! Think about Cersei.” 

“Cersei likes to sleep with members of her family. That much is obvious. She loves her children. She hated her husband enough to kill him. The relationship between Cersei and Jaime seems familiar, like they've been together for a while. It’s...you're not saying what I think you're saying. Are you?” Arya connected the dots and saw what she needed to but it wasn't as impressive as Sansa had thought. She could understand why Sansa would find it bile because Joffrey had touched her and forced himself upon her in the most intimate manner. Yet, Arya was far less shocked than the common person. “You're saying that Joffrey, Tommen and Myrcella are the incestuous bastard children of Cersei and Jaime?” 

“Yes.”

“Okay! Then why all the cloak and dagger? The answer seems so simple to me!” Arya threw up her hands in frustration. It seemed so obvious to her. So much pain and so much loss has been caused from this game; why suffer all of it when a simpler solution was just inches away. “Why do all of this? Why sneak around King's Landing plotting your schemes and causing all this chaos? You had Cersei at your fingertips. Prove that Joffrey and the rest were born of incest, they more than likely will be executed and there, problem solved!” 

“It's not that easy.”

“I never said it was easy! Simple but not easy!” Arya threw her hands in the air out of frustration. While she was one for revenge and punishment, she could not condone the havoc they had created. Arya narrowed her eyes at her brother-in-law and couldn't help but blame him. Arya had been blinded by the positive changes he brought out in her sister that she refused to see the negative. Sansa had changed from the broken girl she had protected to this cold and calculating woman. Sansa would never admit it aloud but she had become a much more intelligent version of Cersei. There were of course drastic differences and Sansa would always bee a more likable person, but the similarities were there. The insult was on the tip of her lips but couldn't come out. No matter how angry Arya was with her sister, she would never be able to hurt her. Her, Baelish and the child Sansa carried were the only family Arya had left. “I just don't understand. I get Joffrey. I get the vengeance and the need to end him but the rest? Why?”

“Have you forgotten about Bran?” The words came out as a whisper. Arya froze and she appeared hurt. Bran was an old wound but one that would never heal. He was the first stone that was thrown. He was their first taste of grief and possibly the most bitter. Before Baelish had entered their lives and they lived at Winterfell with their family, Bran's name only came out as a whisper. They were afraid that if they spoke his name aloud, the pain would scream through the stone corridors again. “Don't you remember that day? The day he was pushed? Or the day I learned the truth?” 

“How can you even ask me that!?” Arya was shocked. The fact that Sansa would even hint that Bran left Arya's mind was more than insulting. Bran was with her every day. He was a ghost that lingered around them all. “Of course I remember. I remember everything. I remember Mother's tortured screams and Father's broken expression. I remember his limp and broken body. I remember finding you that day, in your chamber, in tears. I had thought Petyr had harmed you but then you told me Bran was pushed by Jaime and Cersei. It makes exposing them that much more sense.”

“Bran saw them. That is why he was pushed. He caught them in the act and they killed him for it.” Arya had no reply but just stared at her sister in silence. Sansa gave a bitter laugh then. She crossed her arms as though she was trying to hold herself together. Baelish stepped behind her and wrapped his arms around her. It was comfort and if Arya wasn't angry at her, she might have tried to give comfort as well. “Bran is the root to everything isn't he? If he hadn't gone climbing that day, everything would be different. But he did and he saw them. Yes, exposing them might have been simpler and saved everyone a lot of grief. Renly or Stannis could have dethroned them, had them executed for treason and killing King Robert but it wouldn't have been enough. I need her to lose everything. I need her to suffer. Simply executing her is far to kind for her.”

“And what of Father? Robb? Were they worth it?” Those names dug deep inside of her. She had blamed herself for them and for their mother and Rickon. She knew logically that if Robb had stayed away from Jeyne and if Theon had just stayed in the Iron Islands, they all would still be alive. However, they were loses in the game and Sansa has made the game a big part of her life due to her thirst for revenge. The masochist part of her couldn't help but blame herself. 

“Thats not fair.” Sansa sighed and reached out to Arya but Arya stepped away from her, avoiding her touch. She moved so quickly, it was almost as though she expected Sansa's touch to burn her. Sansa was hurt by the reaction and she tentatively pulled her hand back. The devastated expression was etched in every line in her face. Baelish stepped forward and placed himself between the sisters. He said nothing but Arya knew that look. It was the fierce protective look he only wore when someone threatened his wife. “Arya.”

“Don't. Just... don't.” With that Arya turned away and flung the chamber door open. She rushed through it and ran down the corridor. She could hear her brother in law calling her name, ordering her to come back but she ignored him. She couldn't face either of them at the moment. She hated King's Landing but Sansa was all she had left. She trusted her and her husband with everything. She had put such blind faith in them that she let them guide her, mold her. She knew that there were things they never told her but she felt that it was so much more than this. What they hide from her made her question her trust in them. 

Arya wasn't paying attention to where she was going. Before she realized it, she found herself on the balcony that she trained on. This was her safe place. The one place she felt in control. Syrio taught her so much more than Ser Rodrick ever did, not matter how much she missed him. Syrio was a gift from Baelish and now she was even questioning that. What need did he have for her? Why was he interested in her? Was he hoping to turn her into some killer that would be at his beck and call? Before this afternoon, Arya never would have questioned that and thought it would have been the best path for her. Now, everything changed. 

Arya was pulled from her thoughts by a wet nose nudging her hand. She looked and saw that Nymeria was standing beside her, giving her what Arya assumed was a sympathetic look. She laughed lightly, Nymeria had been close, she always was but she knew that her sister sent the direwolf. It was an act that the Old Sansa would have done and the less angry part of Arya felt a spark of hope. Perhaps Sansa wasn't completely lost after all. 

She wrapped her arms around Nymeria's neck and breathed in the wolf's scent. She had been in the gardens again. It seemed that all three of the direwolves had grown fond of the gardens because of the smells and the fruit that grew there. At first, people were weary of the wolves and terrified of them but over time, they simply grew used to their presence. They of course left the wolves alone and never tempted their fates because they knew how dangerous they were. They also knew to be weary of their masters. 

She found it strange of Greywind took to Baelish. Nymeria listened to Arya and belonged to her as much as Lady belonged to Sansa but Greywind lost his master. He latched on to Baelish as though he was seeking a new master. Of course, Baelish in many ways was the leader of them all, something Arya found ironic. He was no wolf, instead a mockingbird with sharp teeth. Her thoughts turned to Summer and Shaggydog, wondering if they were running wild in the woods of the North or in they still remained in Winterfell. Arya made a mental note to ask Sansa when she was less angry with her. And what of Ghost? Was he with Jon, wherever he was? Was he well and did he miss being part of a pack? When Bran had died, Summer latched onto Rickon and it was as though Rickon had two wolves at his command. Summer and Shaggydog were never apart. Now, Greywind, Lady and Nymeria were the last pack of direwolves left in existence and they weren't even in the North. 

Much like Sansa and Arya were the last of the Starks. In many ways Arya was the last of them all, for Sansa was more Baelish than Stark now. Jon had always been a Snow and when she learned that Jon was actually their cousin and not brother, she felt even more isolated. Sansa's children would take the name Baelish, not Stark. Arya was the last and she knew that she would never marry. If she had children they would be bastards and have whatever bastard name of the region of their birth. The Starks were dead and Arya left as though she was completely alone in the world. 

“A girl is sad.” Arya turned sharply at the voice. H'ghar stood looking at her. He was dressed simply which Arya knew was because he had been living in the shadows since they had arrived in Kings Landing all those months ago. While she couldn't call him a friend, she knew he was watching her. She would see him out of the corner of her eye when she trained. Whenever she had a name or an inquiry on someone, he was always available whenever she needed him. 

“If you would have seen me ten minutes ago, you would have said furious.” Arya huffed with a humorless laugh. While she was still angry about the secrets Sansa and Baelish had kept from her, she could feel the fury edging away. Now, she just felt hopeless and lost. She thought back on some of the words she had yelled at her sister, particularly about Ned and Robb and she felt guilty. They were not Sansa's fault but Arya knew she blamed herself and she used it against her. It was one of the lowest blow Arya could think of at the time and now she could only hope Sansa forgave her. She was still angry but that didn't justify her actions. 

“I saw you ten minutes ago and twenty and thirty.” Arya was not surprised. She had always felt him watching her. It wasn't creepy or frightening, as an assassin watching her should be but instead it was comforting. Over the months he was in King's Landing, they had developed an odd friendship. The contact was minimal but their friendship was built on something darker; it was created out of fire, death and murder. Although, that seemed to be the only thing in her life anymore. It seemed to follow her. 

“Do you make it a habit to follow young girls?” Sansa never allowed her to go to Baelish's brothels, even though she knew that her sister had a hand in running them now. However, Arya was no fool. She had heard rumors of what they were like around court. Being small and almost unnoticeable was something that worked in Arya's favor; she heard a whole manner of scandals, except for the ones that mattered apparently. 

“Only those that I find interesting.” Arya cocked her head at that. If anyone else had said such a thing to her, her instincts would have had her running in the opposite direction. Most men would make that mean something else entirely and something that would scar a child for the remainder of her life. However, she knew H'ghar well enough to know that little girls were not something he took pleasure in.

“You find angry girls interesting?” 

“I find you interesting.” In the back of Arya's mind, it sounded as though he was trying to seduce her but the seduction wasn't about sexual attraction. It was bloodlust. She knew that H'ghar was an assassin but she could sense that he was so much more than that. Syrio and Ser Rodrick could only teach her so much and they only fought with honor. Death was the only thing honor brought Ser Rodrick and while Syrio was talented, he didn't have that dark abyss Arya felt that she needed. H'ghar was so much more and Arya was glad she pulled him from that fire so long ago. 

The only other person outside of her family and those who served at Winterfell that found her interesting was Baelish, and that was because he thought he could use her. He saw potential in her that no one else did. When he married Sansa, Arya had thought he was her way out of a dull life of running some high lord's household; a life she knew was never meant for her. However, with everything she had just learned, she was beginning to second guess him. 

“Why?” He didn't answer but only looked at her. Arya knew that she wasn't going to be able to get any answers out of him. He was not a man who would be easily read and she knew she shouldn't push him. He killed three people on her orders and never once got caught doing so. He made it appear as though Lancel Lannister committed suicide; Meryn Trant was the result of a botched assassination attempt and Tywin Lannister was made to look as though he died in his sleep. “Killing them, the names I gave you, was it hard?” 

“No harder than taking a new name.” Taking a new name; she only knew him as H'ghar but perhaps that wasn't his name at all. His words sunk in deep inside of her. Could she ever let go of being Arya Stark? Could she let go of everything Arya was? She had lost so much and had so little to lose but what she had meant the world to her; even if she was angry with Sansa. Arya wasn't sure she could; but she wanted to learn to be able to take a life just as H'ghar can. “If you know the way.”

“Show me how! I want to be able to do it too.” 

“If you want to learn, you must come with me.” Arya's heart sunk deep inside her chest and she answered her own question. She could never let go of Arya. Arya was who she was and despite her desire to learn; she couldn't let go of all she held dear. She couldn't let go of Needle, Nymeria, the Stark name, Jon (wherever he was), her niece or nephew and despite how much she didn't want to admit it at the moment Sansa and her brother-in-law. “Come far away, across the Narrow Sea to Bravvos.” 

“So this is a goodbye?” Once again H'ghar didn't answer her but he didn't need to. He was offering her a choice. She could be rash and run off with him to live a new life. She could learn everything she desired and one day collect on the names she had built up on her list. However, there was a flash of red hair in her mind that held her back. No matter how much she wanted to forgo her life in King's Landing, she couldn't do it. Not yet. “I don't think I can. Not yet. I have so much work to do here. So many names to take.”

“Names to offer to the Red God?” Arya nodded and H'ghar gave her an interested look. He reached into his pocket and pulled something out of it. It was small, silver and round. H'ghar looked at it for a moment and then handed it to her. Arya took it in her hand. It was a coin. On one side it had a large V in the center with writing in a foreign language written around the edges. The other side had a hooded man with no face. “Once your names are collected and you find yourself ready, give that coin to any man from Bravvos. Whisper Valar Morghulis and that man will take you to the House of White and Black. When you are ready, you will see me again.” 

Arya looked up at him as H'ghar turned away. The coin was still pressed firmly in her hand, leaving an imprint on her palm. She watched as H'ghar walk away from her, knowing that his words were true. She would see him again even if she didn't know when that would be. H'ghar paused and then turned back to look at her. Arya's eyes grew wide and she realized that the offer was far more than she expected. The man who had walked away from her was not the same man who was looking back at her. 

His face had changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well guys, I hope that was worth the wait...I am in South Carolina at the moment on a family vacation so that is the reason for the lack of writing. 
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	89. Chapter 89

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, welcome back. 
> 
> I'm really happy with this chapter. I feel that we don't get enough "scheming" chapters and I love writing them.

Chapter Eight Nine 

Life had grown tense in the Baelish household. Lord Petyr Baelish found himself playing mediator between the two sisters and he suddenly began to hope that he had all sons. He could not imagine doing such things for his daughters because it certainly would drive him mad. Sansa went from being a basket case, weeping at her sister's anger to being furious to the complete silent treatment. Arya was civil but cold. Baelish knew that both sisters had begun to see the other's point of view, even if they didn't agree with it, but neither were willing to break the ice first. The Stark pride ran deep in both of their veins and neither would ask for forgiveness. 

Arya threw herself into training even more than before. She would be gone for hours, not even attending luncheon with Sansa. She would return, after the evening meal and eat whatever was left over. She would exchange a few polite words with Baelish and Sansa before retiring for the night. Baelish could see the hurt Sansa felt at her sister's action but refused Baelish's offers to force her sister to speak with his wife. Of course he had Arya summoned to his solar without Sansa's knowledge hoping that Arya's non-pregnant mind would be more rational. It wasn't. Both were too stubborn. However, he never saw Arya look so lost and it appeared she was contemplating the world. He told her of Theon's capture, hoping that it would make her feel something positive but it seemed to only weigh her down more.

Sansa threw herself into preparing for the child, who was growing quickly. They had a good bit of time before the child was due but it allowed her to focus on something positive. The nursery was all but completed; merely waiting on a few select items that have not been finished or have not arrived from Winterfell as of yet. Her middle was growing and he couldn't help but reach out and touch her at every opportunity he had. The thought that he created this being made him feel wise and successful...and manly. He felt a primal sense of pride swell up in his chest when he looked at Sansa. 

Beyond preparing for their infant's arrival, Sana has also thrown herself into the game. Never before had Baelish seen her so dedicated to meet their ends. He smirked with pride at seeing her scheming. She was working so hard to meet her ends. She spent hours with Margaery but Baelish knew it had nothing to do with social gatherings. While Sansa liked and enjoyed Margaery's company, she would toss her to the lions if it suited her. That made Baelish itch with desire for his wife. However, Margaery was still useful and thus Sansa became the new Queen's closest companion. 

While Baelish busied himself with dealings with the Iron Bank or small council meetings, Sansa took long strolls with her armed linked with the Queen. She attended luncheons at the Queen's leisure and during those times, Sansa could slyly push her own agenda onto the Queen. Margaery was no fool and knew that Sansa needed something done within the Seven Kingdoms. However, she viewed Sansa as a dear friend and knew that she owed Baelish; because of this, Margaery was more than willing to assist Sansa. 

This was how Baelish found himself sitting under a canopy in the middle of the gardens, eating fruits, cheeses and anything else the Queen desired. Sansa was not willing to ask Arya to attend due to their disagreement and Baelish wished nothing more than the sisters reconciling. Baelish was an old hat at the game but there were some things he dreaded. Dining and schmoozing, while he was talented at it, were by far his least favorite part. Having to smile, nod and stoke egos of people he hated brought a certain distaste to his mouth. Having Sansa as a wife brought another perk to his life. She rather enjoyed these luncheons and the schmoozing far more than him and giving her position as his wife, it was more suitable for her to play that role. 

Looking across the table, Baelish could see that King Tommen felt the same. Margaery had insisted that Tommen attend the luncheon with her when Sansa stated that she would be dragging Baelish along. Baelish knew that Sansa didn't bring him for his company, even though she did enjoy it, she needed Tommen there. She knew how to play Margaery and if Sansa said that her husband was going to be dining with them, Margaery would insist that hers be there as well, much to Tommen's dismay. To his credit, Tommen was openly grieving the loss of his grandfather and if Baelish had any morals at all, he might have felt sympathy for him. 

“When I was younger, my cousin Alana was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen because when I was twelve I was all elbows and knees. Alana looked like a goddess sent to torture me. Pig face she had called me.” Sansa laughed at that and she actually seemed to be enjoying herself. Baelish watched her laugh and wondered if this was something the old Sansa looked forward to. He wondered for a moment how it would have been corrupting something so innocent. 

“Pig face! How awful. Well, I bet she is envious now, what with you being Queen.” Sansa stated in a sweet voice. She smiled but Baelish could see the falseness in that smile. While he never would admit it aloud, he had studied her smiles and knew every meaning behind them. He knew when her smile meant happiness as well as knowing the smile that meant she was playing the game. 

“I wouldn't know. She ended up marrying this darling man and has several beautiful children. It's rather frustrating.” Margaery stated but there was no hint of bitterness there. She knew that she found her position in life to be far superior to her cousin’s. As though Margaery read Baelish's thoughts, she reached out and took her husband's hand. She gave him the perfect smile that made Tommen blush. “Of course I found the best husband there is.” It was obvious that she was trying to keep the newlywed feeling alive because the longer Tommen was doe eyed to his bride, the easier he was to control. 

“King Tommen is possibly the best husband any girl could ask for. If only I had been so lucky.” Sansa teased and chuckled. She tossed Baelish a smirk and he simply raised an eyebrow at her. He saw Tommen's eyes go wide slightly wondering how Baelish would react. He said nothing but his amused expression spoke volumes. The corner of his lip quirked up slightly and Sansa burst out laughing. She leaned over and kissed his cheek. Baelish could feel her lips vibrate against his cheek. When she pulled away, he took her hand and brought it to his lips. His eyes looked at her while he kissed the back of her hand, smirking wider as he went. “I'm more than lucky.” 

“I would hope so. I've spent more gold on you than my account desires.” Sansa huffed and pulled her hand out of his grip. He chuckled, knowing perfectly well that she wasn't offended by his words. She was trying to withhold her smile but he knew what lurked underneath. Margaery gave a hysterical laugh and clapped her hands together in amusement. Tommen gave an uneasy chuckle but his eyes still darting between Sansa and Baelish. 

Baelish realized what it must have been like to watch his mother and the man he thought was his father hate each other. Cersei and Robert never had the easy banter Sansa and he shared. Their words were angry and hateful. Seeing Baelish and Sansa bicker, even if it was meant to be friendly banter, caused him to see noting more than his parents arguing. Baelish knew that Sansa and he would never allow their children to see such hatred grow between them; he could never hate his wife. However, he would never allow their children to go into marriages blind. He would ensure that they understood the world and how to manipulate it to their own gain. 

“The two of you are just precious!” Baelish had never been called precious in his life but allowed the Queen her amusement. She was laughing to the point that her face was turning red. They were attracting the stares of people who were passing by. Some of them cocked her head but only smile at the happiness. Joffrey's death was long forgotten in the eyes of the court and Margaery was no longer labeled as the widow. Now, she was the happy newlywed Queen that everyone enjoyed to have around. It infuriated Cersei because she had never seen such devotion from her subjects nor her husband. It only made the former Queen even more envious. “I mean the two of you-oh my.”

Margaery's smile slipped from her face and her eyes turned toward the entrance of the gardens. Sansa and Baelish both followed their Queen's gaze and saw that Sybil Westerling was entering the gardens. Baelish thought her random appearance was interesting for she had not been seen since the death of her lover, Tywin Lannister. The moment Tywin had died, all the power Sybil thought she had vanished. She no longer was in a position to ask for favors of the hand of the King, because a new hand had not been named yet. 

That was another thing that Baelish had been thinking about. Sansa had been so consumed by her anger towards her sister that the idea of a new Hand slipped her mind but Baelish knew it. He didn't want the position for it would be to public and would make his schemes too noticeable. However, he had his theories on who would be picked. Tommen had so many people whispering in his ear it made for an interesting question on what the young King will decide to do. Cersei was still trying to run the small council meeting but with Margaery behind him, he questioned her motives. Despite Margaery's dislike, Cersei was still Tommen's mother and he didn't have the anger toward her that Joffrey had; then again, he didn't know the truth as to why Joffrey imprisoned their mother. He was too blinded by jealousy over Margaery to see the truth. 

“Dressed in all black as though it was a husband who died and not a lover.” Sansa whispered low enough that only Baelish could hear the contempt in her tone. His eyes looked to his wife but noticed the concern in Margaery's gaze. Outside of Arya, Sansa and himself, the Queen was the only living soul who knew Sybil's part to play in the death of Ned and Robb Stark. Sansa coughed slightly and her voice rose to her normal level. “She must be heartbroken.”

“I know my dear husband is heartbroken over the death of his grandfather.” Margaery reached out and touched Tommen's hands lovingly. She smiled at him with false lips but Tommen bought it, as he always had. He gave a sad smile and Baelish saw that he genuinely grieved for Tywin's death. While Tywin being the third name on a list destined for death was meant for Sansa's revenge against Sybil, Baelish couldn't help but see it as a political maneuver that would only push his agenda forward. While Baelish would give his wife anything she asked for, he couldn't help but view every opportunity that Tywin's death provided. With one less capable player in the game, it made Baelish's end game so much easier to reach. “It is no mystery how she must be feeling.”

“As though she lost everything.” Sansa's tone was bitter. Margaery grinned at her but it was tight and held a warning. Sansa understood the message and narrowed her eyes slightly. Sansa was intelligent and always held her emotions close to her chest however, with the pregnancy sometimes her emotions got the best of her; especially ones that were strong such as anger and sadness. Baelish linked their fingers together and gave her a gentle squeeze. He knew that she was not going to back away and it made pride swell up inside of him. “I'm certain that just being here causes her pain. Looking around must have her seeing everything Lord Tywin adored and it would only increase the pain she must be feeling.”

“You think being at the Red Keep bothers her?” Tommen asked, his eyebrows in concern. It appeared as though Tommen had some kind of genuine feeling for the woman. He had never met his grandmother due to her death when Cersei was a child and Sybil might have been the closets thing he had to one. Sybil might have never really paid Tommen much attention because he played no real importance to her needs but after witnessing the horrid marriage that Robert and Cersei had, he might have romanticized the idea of Tywin finding “love” with Sybil. 

“I would be surprised if it didn't.” Sansa stated and Tommen threw her a questioning look. Sansa linked her hands with her husband and he knew that she was about do say something that she didn't want to. Baelish knew that she didn't like to use her family's demise to her advantage but she would if she had to; even if it bothered her. “Sometimes, being here tears my heart out. I see Robb and my father constantly. It's hard for me to even go near the part of the Red Keep that they had been living in. I had thought of dragging my husband back to Winterfell but I know that their ghost would be even stronger in the North.” 

“Yes. I'm sure it is.” Margaery stated with a fake smile. It was obvious to Baelish that the Queen discovered what Sansa was hoping to achieve. She turned to Baelish and looked as though she was being inquisitive about something. It was false and nothing more than a show for her husband. “Lord Baelish, do you remember what estate her husband is Lord over? I can never remember and I know you had gone to the Westerlands shortly before traveling to the Reach.” Before Baelish could answer, Tommen interrupted in confusion.

“Lady Sybil is still married? I thought her husband had passed?” Tommen looked confused. Baelish had to hold back a smirk. While he knew his grandfather was sleeping with a woman who was not his wife, it was clear that the young king had assumed that Sybil was widowed; just like his grandfather. The thought that Sybil was willing to go to bed with someone who was not her husband caused Tommen to see Sybil in a new but darker light. Baelish knew that it could be used to their advantage. 

“Her husband, Lord Gawen Westerling is alive and well from what my sources tell me.” Baelish answered the King and then gave a kind smile to the Queen. “Their seat is the Crag in the Westerlands. Your Uncle Jaime and I had traveled to the Crag to collect taxes, I believe it was close to two years ago now, and when we were there, Lord Gawen was in perfect health. He spoke highly of your grandfather. He was very loyal to him.” His words had the affect Baelish was hoping for. To hear of the Lord's loyalty to Tywin all the while Tywin was bedding his wife, didn't sit well with the King. 

“Perhaps Lady Sybil would like to go back to the Crag. I'm sure seeing her husband will bring some comfort. Plus she never really was able to grieve for her daughter. Tywin's death only weeks after hers would only make the heartache worse. Surly having her husband and sons nearby would ease the hurt slightly.” Margaery reached over and took Tommen's hand in hers again. She could see the conflict raging inside of him. While Joffrey's sadistic nature was what Margaery used against him, Tommen's good nature was his. 

“Do you think it will help her?” Tommen asked, never taking his eyes off Sybil, who was accepting condolences from several members of the court. Sybil lost her daughter and lover within the span of weeks. Now, all she had left was the small respect and influence that was leftover from Tywin. Sansa wanted to pull that from her arms until she had nothing left. Baelish knew that Gawen Westerling was not happy with his wife. When Baelish collected the Crag's taxes for the Westerlands, Gawen had been less than kind to Jaime. It wasn't until Baelish became friends with Raynald Westerling, the eldest son and heir of the Crag, told him of his mother's disloyalty and betrayal. He told him of the engagement between his sister Jeyne and Jaime. While Gawen approved of the match and signed a betrothal, he didn't agree to his wife becoming Tywin's mistress. That was arranged after the engagement was already set in stone. Sansa wanted to send Sybil crawling back to her husband after she had been unfaithful to him. Gawen was a good man but even good men have their limits. “Wouldn't the Crag remind her of Jeyne? Just like Winterfell reminds you of your family?”

“Of course but the difference is that she has family there. Two sons, another daughter and her husband. Winterfell is empty for me. I have no one left. Just my sister and husband, but they are both here.” Sansa replied, looking directly into the King's eyes. She was counting on the fact that Gawen would make the rest of Sybil's life hell for her affair. Sybil had intended to remain under Tywin's protection. Since Gawen bowed to the Lannisters in the Westerlands, and Tywin wasn't above destroying houses that rebelled against him, Gawen would be powerless. However, Tywin was dead and Sybil was now vulnerable. “If Harrenhal was completed, I would beg Petyr to leave King's Landing for the quiet life in the Riverlands.” 

“She'll be happy there?”

“It will give her time to heal. It will give us all time to heal.” Margaery smiled, trying to appear as though she was concerned. “Tywin's loss grieves us all. Seeing her here would only cause us more pain. Her going back to the Crag will help her reconnect with the family she has left but it will also make our grief that much easier to bare.” Tommen nodded, agreeing with his wife's words. It appeared as though he made his decision. 

“I will prepare a ship for her departure to leave in a few days. I'll take a stroll with her in the gardens this afternoon and tell her the news. I'm sure she will be happy.” Baelish smirked, knowing full well that Sybil will be anything but happy. She had spent the last few years in bed with a man to get power. Now, she was being shipped back to the estate she never called home, to a husband that she hated and her remaining children who have done nothing but disappoint her. It was almost enough punishment in his eyes. Almost.

“Perfect. As much as I would love to stay and reminisce about Lord Tywin, may the Seven rest his soul, but I have some business to attend to. The Iron Bank waits for no one. I'll have detailed summaries of the payment for your eyes in the morning. A few more taxes and the Seven Kingdoms should be out of debt soon.” Lies. Baelish knew that the kingdoms were far to deep in debt that mere payments would save it. No. There was only one way for those loans to be repaid and Baelish fully intended to see his plans through. 

“Thank you Lord Baelish. You have always served the crown well.” Tommen replied and standing with his hand outstretched. Baelish took it early and squeezed it. Tommen viewed Baelish as a man who served his life honoring the crown. He respected him and wanted him on his side. Baelish knew how unwise of the belief that was. It was foolish and something that Baelish was counting on. What was the use of having a young king if he wasn't foolish? Especially now that his mentor was dead. Slowly Tommen was losing everyone that would make him a good King. Soon enough he would only have Margaery pulling his strings which, no matter how much she didn't want to admit, Baelish controlled. 

“My pleasure.” Baelish let go of the King's hand and leaned down. He kissed Sansa's cheek in affection. “I'll see you tonight?” He whispered to her and she smiled. They would have no much to talk about in the darkness and safety of their bed. Sansa nodded and kissed his lips lightly. Baelish moved away from the canopy but looked over his shoulder. He could see his wife laughing with the Queen and the King appearing slightly uncomfortable being alone with the two women. Despite the fact that Sansa was playing the part she needed to play, Baelish could see that she was happy. Happiness for his dear wife was something that was rare anymore and that ate away at him. He wanted nothing more than happiness for her and their child. One day he knew that he would make this world a place for her. It would never be pure, for that was a lesson he learned long ago, but his legacy would have power. That would protect her and their children. 

Baelish strolled leisurely, his eyes lingering around those he passed. He was searching but concealing the fact that he was. Soon enough he saw Olyvar strolling out of the Red Keep where Lores Tyrell slept. Olyvar was loyal and did was he was told to do. Baelish commanded he form a sexual relationship with the new Queen's brother and he did so. Anything that happened in the Tyrell household that Baelish needed to know, Olyvar told him. When Olyvar noticed his employer, he looked around and then walked toward him. Their meetings were always quick when they were in public. It would not be well if many people saw them together. Baelish liked to keep his spies hidden and a mystery. 

“Lord Baelish.” Olyvar greeted. He looked tousled as though he had been thoroughly fucked. His golden hair was not sleek as usual but instead knotted and messy. His blue silk tunic was wrinkled as was his trousers. If Baelish felt the need to see Lores himself, he would be that Lores would be in an equally disheveled state. “What can I do for you?”

“There is a carriage heading for the Westerlands in a few days. Make sure a hired man is on it and most importantly, make sure that my name is never mentioned.” Olyvar nodded. This wouldn't be the first time that Baelish asked him for something as unspeakable as this. Baelish had more blood on his hands than many realized. Yet, Olyvar never blinked an eye. 

“And the target?”

“He'll know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is so much going on! There are times when I ask myself "Why the hell did I create such a complicated story with so many different details, characters and what not?" Oh yeah, GRRM and Boden took over my life. Thats why! Plus, I have this weird need for every character to have their own plot line. 
> 
> Tell me what you think!


	90. Chapter 90

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Welcome back!

Chapter Ninety

The sun had not risen completely yet. There were hits of orange over the horizon but that was all, hints and nothing more. It was as though the sun was teasing on what was yet to come. A promise of light and sunshine, as though nothing could ever go wrong; a false promise. King's Landing was used to such things. Lies could be found around every turn and if one played the game correctly, there would be moments of truth; at least the truth that one wanted to be heard. In those moments, pain always followed because lies were easy. Truth brought nothing more than pain. 

Sansa reflected on every truth she had ever known. Her first dose of truth was when Joffrey led her into the Godswood all those years ago. Feeling that freshly fallen snow on the ground, waiting to welcome her into a freezing death was paralyzing. The first truth she ever learned was just how cold and evil the world could be. Many say that hell burned but Sansa knew that to be wrong; it froze until all emotion was stripped away. 

The next truth was learning who had pushed Bran from that tower and why. For years Sansa had been living a lie, dwelling on her stolen virtue and telling her entire family that she was fine. Yet, Baelish gave her something to feel. Revenge and anger were the first feelings, besides desire, that her now husband awoke inside of her. He gave her a purpose. Bran. The reason was to avenge his murder. The truth that she wasn't just some high born daughter but instead a player in something bigger; she realized that she could be more than the proper lady she thought she was destined to be. Sansa just didn't realize the cost of revenge and that life she would never trade; even if meant bringing the dead back to life. Such things were just not possible.

The next truth was consequences. She learned the consequences of playing the game were dire. Her mother and Rickon's death taught her that. She had toyed with Theon because she could. His mere presence had bothered her as well as the treatment of her family and she wanted nothing more than to make him disappear; no matter the cost. She was willing to throw Jeyne into the fire to obtain her desire. However, Theon came back with a vengeance and made her pay for it. Sansa didn't know if she would ever be able to step inside Winterfell again. Time would tell. Theon was under armed guard, traveling for King's Landing. 

Yet, Theon wasn't what she was doing down in front of the Red Keep before the sun had risen. Baelish was the early riser in their marriage and yet Sansa was bathed, dressed and pacing before he had even hinted at stirring. He grunted at the sight of her but said nothing. He knew what this day meant to her and was willing to humor her if it meant some type of happiness came to her. With linked arms they strolled through the sleeping castle to experience another dose of truth. This truth was the cost of cockiness and assuming too much of one's position. 

Sybil had ordered the death of her brother because he sullied her daughter. Her father had gotten in the way and died as well. Sybil had assumed too much of her position and thought that nothing could touch her. Sansa learned that even the highest person could fall by making the wrong move. Sybil had crossed her and now had to pay the consequences but Sansa wasn't blind. She knew the game she played could cause her downfall as well; but like Syrio preached to Arya, not today. Today, Sansa was delivering the truth and there was nothing more satisfying than that. 

Sybil was there, looking at the Red Keep with a forlorn expression. The Capitol had brought her power and standing that her husband lacked. The Westerlings were a smaller house and that had never been enough for Sybil. When she was young, she wasn't beautiful or rich enough to marry higher; she had to make her way in a different way. Not everyone would be able to make their desires come true. She had the taste for it but never really held it. At the end of the day, she was nothing more than Tywin Lannisters's whore. Now she was being forced to crawl back to her husband. 

“It's a shame you must leave us.” Sansa stated, causing Sybil to turn. Baelish trailed behind his wife, allowing her to have this moment. Sansa made her way down the dusty red stone stairs with her pink and gold dress clutched in her hands. She didn't want the bottom of her dress to get ruined. “I hear that King's Landing is just beautiful in the middle of summer.” 

“What are you doing here?”

“Seeing you off. I thought someone should.” Sansa looked around and saw no one who wasn't being paid to escort Sybil back to the Crag. While Cersei tolerated her presence, Sybil was the same age as her and clearly not replacing her mother. Tommen didn't take too kindly to learning that Sybil was still married and not widowed as he had thought. Margaery couldn't care less and Myrcella's feelings on the matter were a mystery. Sybil was alone here and friendless. It almost made Sansa second guess her choices. Perhaps she should be forced to stay in King's Landing; alone. 

“You came to gloat, don't lie. I know you are behind this… my banishment. King Tommen said that going back to the Crag would be good for me; help me grieve and perhaps he believed that. But the King is a fool to trust you and yet you and that brothel owning whore you call a husband hold all the cards and the King can't see it. He is too blinded by his new bride to see anything else.” It was perhaps the most honest thing Sansa had ever heard Sybil say. There was neither lie nor game in her words. They were just words of someone who knew they had lost. 

“What is foolish is you thinking you can have my father and brother murdered and get away with it.” Sansa stepped closer and reached up to touch her necklace. The mockingbird pendant was present as it always was. Her father always told her that Starks were direwolves, and while Sansa still had her wolf and she could feel that predatory instinct inside of her, she realized that there was a bit of mockingbird in her as well. 

“I knew you knew. That day when you held my hands so tight I knew. I never wanted to hurt you or your father but your brother was in my way.” Sybil gave a bitter laugh. “Did you push her? I asked Tywin but he said you weren't capable of murder and perhaps he was right but I have to know. Did you push my daughter off that tower?” Sansa looked into those broken eyes and almost laughed. Was this what Sybil was telling herself? That there was a small chance that Jeyne was murdered in order to relieve herself of any guilt? “Please. Just tell me.”

“No. She killed herself. She flung herself from that tower and it was all because you killed the man she loved.” Sybil said nothing to that, just closed her eyes as though she was in more pain than she had ever been in her life. It wasn't enough for Sansa. “And before she jumped, she told me everything. She told me that it was you who ordered the hit. She overheard you telling Tywin. She told me how he covered everything up. He was just as guilty as you. And then she flung herself off a tower. Her death is on your hands. Not mine. Consequence of the game I'm afraid.”

“Don't you think I know that? Don't you think that I have blamed myself every night since?” Sybil hissed at her. Sansa looked her over and saw bags under her eyes. She realized what a mess Sybil was. She had been far too infuriated with her to see just how broken she was. She didn't see the weight loss, the shallow skin or the red eyes. She didn't see the woman or mother. She saw a player and one she wanted nothing more than to knock off the chessboard. “I bet you're so angry that you can't punish Tywin. He died in his sleep before you got the chance.”

“Did he? Die in his sleep I mean.” Sybil simply looked at her with disbelieving eyes. A man came up to her and gently placed a hand on her shoulder, telling her that they needed to depart but she didn't move. Her eyes never left Sansa's. She shook her head, denying the words or the thought. Tywin assured her that Sansa was no threat and that her husband was too loyal to the crown to cross him. She knew Tywin was underestimating them but murder? Sansa was too innocent for such a thing.

“No. No. You're no murderer. You can't be.” Sansa chuckled at that and stepped forward. She heard Baelish follow but still keeping his distance; he wouldn't allow anyone to get close enough to harm her but Sansa knew Sybil wouldn't harm her. Not here. Not now. Sansa reached out and tucked Sybil's hair behind her ear. She leaned in and brought her lips to the older woman's ear. 

“I'm a far better one than you.” she whispered and then kissed Sybil's cheek. She pulled away from her and walked back toward her husband. She didn't need to see Sybil's expression because she knew what it would hold. It would hold just how drastically she had lost the game. She walked into Baelish's arms and turned in them just in time to see Sybil being pulled toward the carriage. It was true that Sansa didn't kill Tywin directly but she ordered it and Arya followed those orders. His death was on her hands and she wouldn't have it any other way. Baelish held her close and kissed her shoulder. He was proud of her. “You're going to have her killed aren't you?” 

“How did you know?”

“I've known since the moment you walked away from the table days ago.” He laughed softly and kissed her shoulder again. She could feel the smile on his lips when they made contact with her skin. The carriage containing Sybil began to roll away as the men on horseback followed. Sansa squeezed Baelish's hands, telling him that she wasn't angry at him for his actions. “She isn't going to make it to the Crag is she?”

“No. She will have an accident during her travels. Her son and husband will bury her at the Crag when her body arrives.” Sansa shifted but he never dropped his arms. She looked at him with curious eyes. She was searching him, wondering what Sybil's death would mean for him. Every move he made was calculated and had him gaining something. Even their marriage was based off of some move in the game; what came with it was just benefit. “I learned once that letting one of your enemies go was a mistake. I should have had Theon murdered on that ship he sailed off on. I didn't and look at the misery it brought you. I will not make that mistake again. Sybil will die. Don't fight me on this.” 

Sansa didn't fight him but instead just continued looking at him. She turned in his arms completely and wrapped hers around his shoulders. She kissed him deeply and thoroughly. Their tongues danced together and she pressed herself against him as much as her pregnant stomach would allow. There was no gain from Sybil's death for him; just prevention of future harm coming to Sansa. That was it. No political move or financial gain for Baelish. Nothing. And it made Sansa need to feel him. 

“Come with me.” Sansa whispered against his lips. She pulled away from him and linked their fingers together. She pulled him back toward the Red Keep and inside the giant wooden doors. She dragged him down a hall, not really paying attention to where she was going and Baelish followed; not saying a word. She stopped at the first door she found and pushed it open. It appeared to be a study of sorts, similar to the ones that her father forced her and her siblings to study in when they were children. Bookshelves lined the walls and there were a few chairs around. A table was in the center of the room and Sansa all but pushed Baelish down upon it. 

He had experienced her passions several times and they had only increased since their child began to grow inside of her. There were times when Baelish would simply come home from a long day and find himself flat on his back before he realized what happened. However, this was a first. Never before had Sansa simply thrown him onto the first surface she could find. Baelish could feel the wood against his clothed back but he didn't focus on that. 

Baelish propped himself up onto his elbows and watched as his wife slowly pulled the golden strings on her dress. One by one those strings loosened the dress, allowing it to fall open. Soon, it was just hanging off of her shoulders, revealing the shift that the pink fabric hid away. She shook off the dress and Baelish could see the outline of her body. Sansa had stopped wearing corsets because they became too uncomfortable. Now, he could see her hardened nipples through the fabric and he itched to rip it off of her. He watched her as she dragged her hands up the side of her leg, moving the white fabric with her. He saw her bare leg and watched as she slowly took off her smallclothes. 

Sansa braced her hands on the wooden table. She lifted herself up by placing her foot on the small chair that was pushed off to the side slightly. She crawled up her husband's body but not the entire way. Her legs were on either side of his but she didn't go all the way up to his pelvis. She pushed the fabric of his long coat to the side and started to pull the laces of his trousers off. Soon she was able to pull them down enough to free his member. 

He was hard and aching. Sansa cupped him causing him to hiss. His eyes fluttered at the feel of her hand engulfing him. Sansa began to thrust her hand slowly up and down until Baelish's arms gave way and he was flat on his back again. He didn't open his eyes until he felt the pleasure stop and a slight breeze reached his aching member. He saw Sansa rise on her knees and move forward but she didn't lower herself down upon him like she wanted.

Instead of taking her pleasure, Sansa reached down and pulled the white shift over her head. She was completely naked on top of her husband. Baelish reached out and traced her skin. He had seen her naked hundreds of times before but this is something far more intimate. She was in full view of him and the obvious signs of his child growing inside of her brought him more pleasure than any fucking would bring. 

Baelish's hands traced up her body, lingering at her stomach, hoping to feel the child move. He had not been blessed with that honor yet. He would never mention it aloud but he was filled with disappointment each time he touched her growing belly and felt nothing. His hands moved away from her stomach and cupped her breasts. They were fuller now, rounder. Her nipples were hardened and sensitive. He pinched and pulled at her nipples, causing her to whimper and moan. Her hips bucked against him, which caused him to groan as well. He could feel her wet slickness brush against his member and it only made him ache. He desire to be inside her wet heat was enough to drive him mad. 

“Sansa. Sweetling, please.” With a wicked smile, Sansa leaned up on her knees and took his member in hand. She aligned herself with him and sunk down upon him. Both Sansa and Baelish groaned at the feeling of their union and it only spurred her to move. She placed her hands on her husband's chest and began to rock against him. Up and down, Sansa felt him slid in and out of her. Stretching her, moving deep inside of her. 

“Seven hells.” Sansa whispered as her nails dug into his clothed chest. She rode him harder and harder until the creaking of the table could be heard outside of the stone walls of that tiny room. Baelish gripped her hips, helping her frenzied movements find a rhythm. His hips bucked against her, hitting a spot deep inside of her. “Uh! Please.” 

“Tell me. Tell me what you want.” Baelish grunted. His eyes could not be taken away from his wife's wild behavior. He had seen her in so many beautiful ways but to see her so unrepentant and totally consumed by her pleasure, pleasure he was giving her, it took everything he had not to spill inside of her. He knew the reason why she dragged him inside this small room was because she needed to feel him. It was a gift of sorts but one bought out of carnal need. “I will give you anything you want. Just tell me what it is.” 

“You. I want you.” Hearing her pleas, Baelish grabbed on of her wrists and pulled his away from his chest. He sat up and brought their chests together. The angle was different, deeper than before. It caused her to bounce faster on top of him. Baelish gripped her hips while her hands repositioned themselves around his shoulders. Baelish leaned in and kissed her deeply, tongues fighting for dominance. When they broke apart they were panting. He pressed his forehead against his. 

“You have me. All of me.” They kissed again but this time it was shorter. Sansa pulled away from him, changing the angle of their relations. She leaned back and grasped his ankles. Baelish could lean back and allow her to do all the work while he simply enjoyed the ride but that wouldn't do for him. Sansa's chest was swaying and bouncing with pleasure and it made his mouth go dry. He needed to taste her. While she rode him with fervor, Baelish leaned forward and licked the valley between her breasts. His tongue started at the bottom but traveled the length of the valley until it reached the silver pendant that rested on her chest. 

“Do that again.” Baelish chucked and continued to suck on her skin. However, her movement were hurried and her chest was growing farther and farther away as she continued to ride him. Eventually, Baelish wrapped his arms wound her middle and pulled her back to him. Her arms circled his shoulders again and Baelish's lips latched onto her nipple. She cried out in pleasure as he continued to suck and nip at her. 

Baelish moved one of his hands to grope the breast that his lips were not attached to. His thumb teased her but he knew that he was not going to last much longer. He trailed his hand down the center of her chest, lingering on the baby bump before descending lower. He reached her center quickly and began to tease her clit. Sansa cried out his name and bucked forward but he continued to tease her. Her moved his fingers against her faster and faster until he could feel her muscles clenching around him. 

“Petyr!” She screamed his name as she threw her head back in ecstasy. Her body clenched, sucking him dry. Seeing her so completely undone, Baelish let himself go and spilled inside of her. His head leaned against her shoulder, attempting to catch his breath. They held each other as their lust subsided and they fell from their highest. “I don't know what came over me. I just needed you. Badly. As fast as possible.” 

“If you ever feel that need again, please, feel free to oblige yourself. Come to me, anytime.” Sansa chuckled at that. Sansa climbed off of him and off of the table. Baelish stayed there watching his wife's naked body walk around the room. He knew that they needed to move soon or they would be discovered. It was still early and many people were still asleep but still a risk. There was really nothing they could do if they were caught but it still would prevent Sansa some embarrassment; even if Baelish felt proud in their relations. “Perhaps I should have your enemies assassinated more often, if this is the reaction I get.”

Sansa looked over her naked shoulder and just shot him a wicked smile. She bent down and picked up her smallclothes and her shift. As quickly as he saw her move, he felt the fabric of her smallclothes hit him. He laughed lightly and he heard her chuckle. He could smell her on the smallclothes as he watched her pull the chemise over her naked body. Baelish shifted, tucking his member back inside of his trousers and stood up, pushing himself off of the table. He tucked the smallclothes into his coat knowing that he would carry it for the rest of the day to remember their interlude. 

He picked up the pink dress she had been wearing earlier and cocked an eyebrow at her. With a grin, Sansa turned her back on him, allowing him to assists her to pull her arms through the dress. She turned to face him and he began to lace the dress up in the front. Their eyes would always linger on each other, smirking as they went. Their minds would flash back to the act they had just committed on that table as well as Sybil riding away to her unknown death. 

“What can I say? I'm having a very good day.”

A good day indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to give you guys a smutty chapter that wasn't in their chambers. Originally I had it planned out at the docks after the send off but I realized that it didn't make a lot sense for Sansa to see her off at the docks but outside the Red Keep. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it!


	91. Chapter 91

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Welcome back! I do want to let you guys know that the semester starts tomorrow and I will be very busy. Just wanted to give you guys a heads up.

Chapter Ninety-One

Tommen was not Joffrey; that much was obvious. Joffrey was one to make a spectacle of anything that would reinforce the fact that he was King. Tommen felt that some matters should be handled quietly and Sansa found that she greatly appreciated such gestures. While she was learning how to play the game and was willing to make moves that some people were not, she didn’t want the entire court to know every detail of her personal life. The members of the court were like leeches, devouring any morsel of scandal that did not personally affect them. The turmoil of others was nothing more than entertainment for them. 

While Sansa had in the past, challenged and made a scene in front of the court, she had never done so because she wanted to be the talk of the court. In all honesty, she couldn’t care less for the court. However, there were times when it was necessary to make a scene or when she would be put in a position where she had no other choice. Joffrey was a fan of airing everyone else’s dirty laundry in front of the court while he sat back holding all the power. When Jeyne Greyjoy had been arrested, Joffrey enjoyed dragging her in front of the court and making Sansa decide her fate; something that caused the court to be angry with her instead of the sympathetic creature they had perceived her to be prior. The rumors that she had seduced the King had more merit once she asked for Jeyne’s head.  
Tommen however, would never have done such a thing. Outside of sentencing Tyrion in publicly, Tommen had always handled matters behind closed doors. Baelish once said that this method either made Tommen a wise king or an easily controlled foolish one; depending on the case, it could go either way. When Tywin was still alive, still in control, he preferred the old ways; discretion was best. However Tywin was no fool, he knew that some things needed to be done publicly-such as trials. Now, that Tommen only had Margaery and Cersei whispering in his ear, his duties as King were held behind closed doors more often.  
That was how Sansa found herself in the small council chamber, wringing her hands with concern. Earlier in the morning, her husband had received word that Theon’s captors would be coming ashore with the prisoner in hand. Not even an hour later, the entire Baelish household received a summons, ordering them to the small council chamber. Tommen promised to judge the case as needed and Sansa suddenly felt so powerless. With Joffrey and Sybil, she had taken justice in her own hands, their deaths caused because of her in some fashion, whether directly or by proxy.  
Now, Tommen was King and held all the power. He knew what Baelish, Sansa and Arya wanted. He had Margaery whispering in his ear as well as Jeyne under guard. Sansa had gotten word that Tommen had gone to see her once the news that Theon’s arrival was imminent. She had no idea what the King had said to her or if she in some way changed his mind about one thing or another. Sansa was in the dark and felt as though she was completely out of control.  
Arya was pacing. The sisters still had a chill running between them even if it had lessened slightly. Arya had forgone her training for the day; an unheard of occurrence since learning the truth about Cersei and Jaime. Arya pushed herself even harder and whereas Sansa might have been able to get her to take a break now and again, her focus currently seemed unwavering. Now the two of them were forced to sit in silence, glaring at the man in the middle of the small council chamber, which only held the King, Sansa, Arya, Baelish and a few guards inside.  
“I'm not one for silence.” Theon said and his voice was flat, a dead tone Sansa could not remember since hearing him last. His voice had such malice the day he had been cast out of Winterfell. As though on instinct, Sansa reached down and rubbed her wrist, where he had grabbed it. She remembered the bruise he had left. While it wasn't the worst she had felt, some pain lingered, more imaginary than physical. “I'm surprised the Warden of the North isn't here to cut off my head. Good old Ned was never one to delegate.”  
“That's because he's dead!” Arya shouted, her voice hard as a whip cracking in the silence. She lunged forward but Baelish was quicker. He grabbed her around the waist and held her back. It reminded Sansa of the morning after Ned and Robb had been found murdered. Arya all but attacked Roslin but this reaction was far more hostile. If Baelish wasn't holding her back, Sansa was certain that the young girl would claw Theon's eyes from his head. 

“Then Robb..”

“Dead too.” That made Theon pause. He had always been close to Robb. They had grown up as brothers and it made the awful act that Theon committed, that much worse. There was a broken expression on Theon's face when he realized that his oldest friend was dead, even though he betrayed him in the worst way possible. Sansa wondered if that was a thin hope he was clinging too; seeing his old friend again no matter how angry he was. 

“How does that make you feel? The Starks dead and you caused it.” Arya's words were hissed through her teeth. 

“Lord Baelish, control your sister-in-law.” Tommen spoke with formality. It wasn't harsh, for the King didn't have a cruel bone in his body. There was no happiness in his command, for he knew the pain both Arya and Sansa must be feeling. However, there was a heavy weight on his shoulders. There was a decision to be made that he didn't want to make. He made it once but it was because law written long before he was born. Killing is only punishable by death. 

“Then who..” Theon coughed, the words were difficult for him. Sansa thought she would get some sort of satisfaction in seeing pain, but seeing him in complete aguish over Robb only caused her sorrow. Anything stemming from Robb's death could not bring her joy, even if it meant seeing Theon suffer. “Then who is the Warden of the North?” Silence hung in the room and not even the King spoke. Tommen didn't know of the past between Sansa and Theon but it was clear that it wasn't pleasant. Tommen knew Theon was banished from Winterfell but not the details. 

Sansa stood from the wooden chair she had been sitting on. She glided towards Theon, the purple and grey train trailing behind her. Her red hair was piled on top of her head and the pregnant belly was obvious. Baelish could see Theon eyeing it. He let go of Arya and stood behind his wife, ready to protect her at all costs. Theon was still on his knees in front of her as she gazed down at him with complete hatred. 

“I am.” After a brief pause, Theon burst out laughing. It wasn't a happy laugh. This was that bittersweet laugh when no other reaction was fitting. It was that laugh when there was nothing else to give. The one person who hated him the most, even more than Arya, was possibly his biggest threat. He knew that his fate was set in stone but having Sansa carve it was something he wasn't prepared for. 

“You're the Warden of the North? How fitting. The one person who would see me executed has the power to deliver it.” He laughed again as if he found Sansa's position humorous. The laughter caused the anger to swell up in Sansa's chest and she wondered if she ever felt such anger before. “Tell me, would it even be worth it to beg for mercy?” Slap. Sansa didn't even remember raising her hand and before she realized what she had gone, her hand struck Theon's white skin; causing him to tumble onto the ground. 

“Lord Baelish! Control your wife!” Tommen's voice sounded and Baelish wrapped his arms around his wife, pulling her away from Theon. He was gentle, not wanting to put too much pressure on her stomach. Tommen watched the scene with sad eyes. He hated such confrontation but it was something that came with the title of being King. He wasn't meant for this. He never thought such responsibility would rest upon his shoulders.

“Mercy! I should show you mercy!?” Sansa screeched. Her vision blurred, tears blocking her eyes. She could vaguely feel her husband's arms around her or Arya's hand griping her arm; leaving crescent moon marks on her skin. “Where was your mercy when you murdered Rickon? A small boy who wasn't even ten years old? Where was your mercy when you slit my mother's throat as she held her dying son in her arms!” There was a flicker of darkness that flashed across Theon's face and it almost appeared as remorse; yet Sansa couldn't see that. 

“Lord Baelish!”

“Sansa, Sweetling, please!” Baelish's hot breath lingered on her skin. At the sound of his voice, Sansa felt all the emotions rush at her and she broke down. Hot tears fell from her eyes and she crumbled in her husband's arms. She could feel looks of pity from everyone in the chamber but she couldn't face them. Before Baelish had entered her life, Sansa never allowed herself to lose control, especially in front of others. Baelish held his wife close to his chest, while Arya placed a calming hand on her back, and they waited for her tears to subside. After a long moment, Sansa calmed down and could feel all eyes on her. 

Both Arya and Baelish gave her a sympathetic look but said nothing. The two of them knew her better than most and while Sansa pretended to be cold and unfeeling, they knew her emotions ate her up inside. She buried her feelings so far down that on occasion, they couldn't help but resurface from time to time. Her ice blue eyes surveyed the room and Tommen's eyes had a sad look to them. He knew that Sansa was a strong woman, she would have to be with everything she had been through, but seeing a beautiful woman break down was not something he reveled in, he was not his brother. However, it wasn't the King's pitying looks that retained her attention, it was Theon's. 

His expression was dark and if she tried not to see him as the villain in her own personal story, she might have seen the regret and pain in his eyes. Yet, Sansa couldn't understand that he might feel remorse from the horrid actions he committed. To her, Theon would always be this cold soulless monster, in the same category as Joffrey. Forgiveness was not something Sansa could understand, nor should she. If Baelish didn't have his arms wrapped around her tightly, Sansa might have lunged at him; wrapping her hands around his throat. 

Sansa's rage was interrupted by the arrival of Queen Margaery and her ever-present guards. Margaery gracefully entered the room and then stood to the side and Sansa noticed that the reason she was late to this meeting was because she was sent to retrieve someone. Jeyne Greyjoy entered behind the Queen and Sansa had to admit that Jeyne had never crossed her mind, blinded by Theon to all else since she entered the chamber. She had spoken to Tommen about sending Jeyne north and Tommen said that it would be considered but not until Theon was captured. He never sent his own guards to find him, allowing Baelish's men to do the work for him but refused to send Jeyne home. It was these types of inconsistencies that made Tommen an easily manipulated king. 

However, now it was hard for Sansa to look away from Jeyne. She looked better since the last time she had visited her; her neglect to the young woman made Sansa feel guilty for a second but her rage outweighed her guilt. Jeyne looked well; far better than before. She was still thin however she was no longer in rags but a nice gown that Margaery clearly provided for her; for it had the Queen's style. Tommen had moved her from the tower where she had been imprisoned into a small chamber and she lived more comfortably. She was still under guard and was not allowed to leave the Red Keep but life for her improved immensely. Her hair was no longer knotted and her skin had more color to it; no longer looking sickly. However, there were still dark circles under her eyes, which Sansa could only attribute to the loss of her son. Jeyne looked healthy but she looked far from happy. 

“Hello Theon.” Her voice was strong and it didn't falter. It was as though she had prepared herself for this moment. The last time she had laid eyes upon her husband was when he abandoned her in the Stormlands, leaving her heavily pregnant with no coins to her name. She was nervous for her hands were held tightly together as though she was trying to pull her fingers off of her hand. 

“Jeyne.” Theon was surprised. His eyes were wide and his jaw slacked. He had not expected to see her in King's Landing and Sansa wondered if he had thought on his wife at all. When they had first married, Jeyne was overjoyed but Theon had resented her, now it appeared as though that resentment was mutual. When Jeyne first came to King's Landing, Sansa wondered if she still had feelings for her husband but now it was obvious that Jeyne felt no affection for him. “What are you-when did you- you're no longer pregnant?” 

“No.”

“The child-”

“A boy. Vayon Greyjoy.” 

“I have a son?”

“Had. My son died.” All voices died after that. No one wanted to speak. The resolve Jeyne had only made the death of the infant boy so much more devastating. Theon sucked in a breath. It was the sound of a drowning man. “Sansa has graciously allowed him to be buried up North in my family plot. His body is being transferred there and when he arrives, which should be any day, my father promised to give him a proper burial.” 

“He is a Greyjoy.” Theon said through clenched teeth. “He should be sent to the Iron Islands and sent out to sea. He is an Iron Born and he is my son-” He was caught off by Jeyne's bitter laugh. She tore her eyes away from Theon and they held complete disbelief. She crossed her arms out of frustration. She gave her husband a look of distain and shook her head. “What?”

“Your son? Your son?! You have no right to make any demands when it comes to him.” Jeyne snapped. The bitterness in her words was normally only heard from wives who were forced to live years with their disrespectful husbands. Jeyne and Theon's marriage lasted just over a year and the strain between them screamed decades of unsatisfactory annoyance. “He is my son! I carried him. I felt him live and I felt him die. You lost the right to call Vayon your son the day you left us to rot in the Stormlands.”

“You were better off without me. I thought you would survive if I wasn't holding you back.”

“Don't play the self-sacrificing fool, Theon. It doesn't suit you.” She turned away from him again and rolled her eyes. Sansa could see that Jeyne was barely holding herself together; an emotion that she could easily relate to. “I loved you once. I really did but I was a blind fool. I thought you were some noble lord from the Iron Islands. When you took me to bed the first time I thought it was because you loved me and were going to marry me. I know now that you never would have made me your wife if it wasn't for Lord Eddard. He was a good man. You are not so don't pretend to be one.” 

“Lady Greyjoy.” Tommen spoke gently causing Jeyne to turn to the King. She smiled and curtsied like a lady should but it didn't matter. Tommen held a somber look upon his face; the decision he had on his shoulders was major and not one he was taking lightly. Unlike his brother, he found little joy in his position, even if there were small perks. Margaery placed a hand on her husband's shoulder, encouraging him; manipulating him. “Lady Baelish has asked for you to be released to you family and for you to return to the North. I am granting this request. I have found that you had no part to play in the deaths of Catelyn and Rickon Stark; nor the battles fought between the Iron Born and the Northern men. Go home and mourn your son.” 

“Your Grace! I don't know what to say.” For the first time since the time Sansa saw Jeyne curled up in her cell when she came to King's Landing, there was happiness in her voice. Tears leaked out of her eyes because the emotions rolling around inside of her. The only way she could express it was by the tears streaming down her cheeks. A guard came to her side and began to show her out. Jeyne looked over her shoulder and back at the King. “Thank you.” 

Once Jeyne was shown out, the silence returned in the chamber and everyone waited for Tommen to speak. Theon looked at the King with fear in his eyes. No matter what Sansa wanted, the final decision rested on the King's shoulders. It was her duty to carry out the King's justice but only when in the North. Here, the power lay with Tommen, no matter how much they manipulated him. 

“I wasn't raised for this.” Tommen whispered. He placed his elbows on his knees and ran his hands through his golden Lannister hair. Margaery leaned down and whispered something in his ear. She kissed his brow and played him. Theon gave a bitter laugh and glanced between Sansa and Margaery; he realized who had the power but he also saw the women behind the man with it. “I was a second son and not meant to be King. I had to sentence one man to death, a man of my own blood. In that I had no choice. He killed the former King, my brother and the only suitable punishment for regicide is death.” 

Sansa's heart began to pick up pace. She wanted to hear the King's words be that of justice. While many would argue that justice and revenge were two very different things, and that Sansa's path was based upon revenge, to Sansa justice and revenge were cut from the same cloth. She wanted Theon's head and she would get it, with or without the King's cooperation. It would be far easier if the King did as Margaery instructed and sentenced Theon to death but Sansa was beginning to see that he might not because he didn't have the strength that was needed; no matter what Margaery did she couldn't make him into the man they needed him to be. 

It was almost ironic how much Margaery had grown. It wasn't that long ago that she stood in the brothel, weighing the morality of killing the King, no matter how much she hated Joffrey. Joffrey was a sadistic rapist and murdered, Tommen was not. Now, she was urging her second husband to be a killer, just not in the way her first was. She needed a husband who was easy to control but also had the strength and authority to do what needed to be done. It was a fine tight line that she needed to walk but Sansa wondered if Tommen was that man. 

“Theon Greyjoy, you are charged with the murders of Catelyn and Rickon of house Stark along with countless others. You are charged with starting a rebellion in the Iron Islands. It has been no secret that House Greyjoy has lost everything when the Seven Kingdoms went bankrupt. It wouldn't be difficult to cause a rebellion, for it wouldn't be the first time.” Tommen took a deep and closed his eyes. Sansa could see that he was lost in thought; unsure of what he was going to do. “Death is what you deserve but other than revenge, I question what purpose it would serve.”

“Your Grace..”

“I haven't made my decision yet Lady Baelish.” Tommen stopped her interruption, giving her a sympathetic look. He understood her pain for they both had lost people they love. He turned back to Theon, who sat on his knees in front of the King. “You deserve death but I have three options. I could force you to take the black. Join the Night's Watch and live your life defending the world you tried to crumble. I could sentence you to the black cells, most men don't survive a year down there. Or I could call for your head. I could be merciful.” 

“My crimes are beyond forgiveness and I deserve whatever punishment you decide.” Theon stated and Sansa actually believed him. There was no pleading for mercy or clemency. Theon's words would do nothing to help his cause. Sansa was suspicious and assumed that everyone had an angle or some kind of gain. She knew Theon and knew that while he was a fool, he was smart enough to see through Sansa back at Winterfell. Yet, his words were not from the Theon she had known before she was married. “I deserve no mercy.” 

“A decision is not made. I need some time to consider all the aspects. Until then, Theon Greyjoy you will spend you days in the black cells.” With that, Tommen waived his hand and the guard took Theon away; Sansa glaring at his back the entire time. She came to this meeting in hopes for an end but got nothing. Margaery gave her a compassionate look before linking her arms with Tommen, who wouldn't look her in the eye. The King and Queen left the small council chamber, leaving Sansa, Baelish and Arya with nothing but silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couple things, I must say that I have really grown to love Jeyne while writing her. At first she was annoying and self centered but she has now been through hell. She lost her son. She has grown and become a better person. I really do enjoy her.
> 
> Second, I know you all want a big revenge chapter with Theon; don't worry, its coming. I felt that Jeyne and Theon needed an ending and that she needed to have her voice heard. She needed to say "screw you Theon" and be the last one standing in that marriage. It was important.
> 
> Next, it was Margaery who thought of bringing Jeyne there. She views Sansa and Petyr as allies and knew that it order to keep them, Theon must die. However, she also knew that Tommen was having second thoughts. She knows that her husband is weak and that condemning a man to death would not be easy for him, even though he did it with Tyrion. However remember, Tywin was alive then AND Tyrion never did actually die...something Tommen feels great relief in. 
> 
> So, your thoughts would be welcome!


	92. Chapter 92

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back!

Chapter Ninety-Two

The candle flickered in the dark chamber, dancing in the darkness as the silence crept in. The unspoken words hung in the air and it felt suffocating. No one knew what to say but they all had burning questions. Their eyes would dart across the table, over food and wine but would miss each other. They looked down at their plates completely missing the other stares. If they could just catch one person's eye, then maybe someone would say something; anything. 

Arya was angry but it wasn't an emotion that was foreign to her. Anger had been her constant companion for years. The first real dose of anger that consumed her was when Bran fell and then finding her sister raped and beaten in the Godswood. Since then, it festered inside of her but never truly came out to play until most of their family's blood had been spilt. Now, H'ghar's words haunted her and she wondered what it would be to take a life; something even her sister has done. Arya fantasized about it, a name added to her list and she imagined how they would die. Theon's demise played in her head like a fairytale. 

Sansa was heartbroken. She had thought that she would be more angry, much like her sister who was stabbing her meat with her fork, but instead she just felt sadness. She knew that it was the child growing inside of her that caused mayhem on her emotions. Before, she would have shut down her emotions but it seemed as though that was no longer an option. She was unable to control them and the tears began to leak out. It wasn't long before Sansa found herself sobbing over her dinner plate. 

She felt someone grab her hand and looked up to see Baelish was the one squeezing it. The lines on his face showed concern. He knew that what happened in the small council chamber was a blow to her. She had expected Tommen to sentence Theon or in the best case scenario, give her the right to dish out the appropriate punishment. However, neither of those things came to be and Baelish could see the pain it caused her. No matter how strong Sansa pretended to be, she was fragile. In her current emotional state Baelish was uncertain how she would handle another tragedy. If Tommen allowed Theon to take the Black or come up with some form of mercy, he knew that it would eat Sansa alive.

He was concerned for her and the child. He had been around several women, mainly his whores, whom had gotten with child. He knew that stress could cause harm to the unborn child. While he was proud that his wife was possibly carrying his heir, that child meant more to him than he was willing to admit. He had always thought that a wife and children were considered weaknesses but the moment he had them, he knew that it made him stronger. He enjoyed playing the smug whoremonger who won the hand of a young beautiful woman for the court, and he was proud of that, but he refused to show him the emotions that were hidden underneath. He refused to show even himself those emotions. 

Baelish squeezed her hand again and it caused Sansa to fully break down. It felt as though there was a lump in her throat and as though something was sitting on her chest. The tears streamed down her cheeks and it was hard to breathe. Baelish stood quickly and pulled her seated body into his arms. She rested her head against his chest and gripped his cloak. Arya stood but didn't move from her spot. While she may be angry with her sister, Arya didn't want to see Sansa in such pain. She understood how she was feeling because the anger was rising inside her. She wanted to throttle Tommen, break into the Black Cells and cut Theon's throat. In what order those two missions would occur was unknown. However, she knew Baelish would tell her that to do such things was unwise. He was always one to plan everything while Arya just wanted to act; consequences be damned. 

“Arya, why don't you give your sister and I a moment?” Baelish stated in a tender voice. He was rocking a still sobbing Sansa. Arya wanted to stay and to reach out to comfort Sansa but she was unsure exactly how. Ever since they had argued, Arya felt as though their relationship was strained. It almost seemed as though their relationship was back to how it was before Bran had fallen from that broken tower. Baelish was giving her an intense stare that was telling her to go. Arya nodded and picked up her dinner plate; it wouldn't be the first time she had eaten in her chambers. “Thank you.” 

“I hate him.” Sansa said through sobs. He could feel her tears on his chest as they seeped through his silk tunic. He hugged her tighter because he knew how much this was eating away at her. He had thought that he had suffered in his years but he had never suffered the losses she has. When he met her all those months ago at Winterfell, she became far more than he could have ever desired. However, it was the tragedy that made her become this woman. If he could alleviate her pain, change the past, he would, without thinking. 

“Theon will get what is coming to him. I promise you that. One way or another, Theon will pay.” he whispered into her hair, vowing that he would keep this promise. He was a liar and it was something he accepted about himself long ago. He said many things and made many promises that he never intended to keep but this one was different. He would promise Sansa the moon and he would find a way to give it to her. Sansa's tears began to slow and Baelish could feel his wife slowly begin to pull away from him. She looked at him and he could see the vulnerability in her eyes that lingered with anger and despair. 

“Not Theon, well yes. I do hate him but he wasn't who I was speaking of. The King. Why is it that when you put a crown on a boy they makes foolish decisions?” Sansa huffed and wiped her tears away. Baelish could tell that while she was trying to hold the tears back, this was the quiet before the storm. Before her pregnancy, he understood her moods perfectly but the child seems to have made her unsure of how she would be feeling. One moment she would be pulling his clothes off, not that he minded, and the next she would be in a rage. She was still the calculated Sansa he adored but she was changing. The child was changing her just as he knew the child was changing him too. “I want him dead.”

“Be careful Sweetling. Speaking of such things is treason.”

“I think we're a bit past treason, Petyr.” Sansa said with a bitter laugh. Baelish leaned in and kissed her forehead. “I killed one Lannister King with my bare hands. I was covered in his blood. Why not another? If Tommen isn't man enough to bring about his own justice, then what kind of King is he?” Baelish placed his hands on her shoulders and gave her a pointed look. It was the gaze he held when he was trying to mold her and teach her. It had been so long since he needed to play the mentor because she had graduated from being a student to a master. Perhaps she still had so much to learn. 

“We killed Joffrey because I thought it would bring you a sense of closure.” Sansa looked down because it didn't. Killing Joffrey only left a dark hole inside of her that wouldn't close and Baelish knew this. “But I was wrong. Even if the personal reasons to kill Joffrey wasn't present, it was still a strategic choice. He was a loose cannon and impossible to control. He could be manipulated certainly but it wasn't clear which way he would turn. While I know that not everyone will play into your hands the way you want, he was too wild. Nothing more than a wild dog with a crown. We could have kept him on the throne and it would have suited my plans just fine. However, killing him worked just as well and it was something you wanted. But setting all of that aside, what was the one thing Joffrey had that Tommen does not? The one thing that made him expendable?” Sansa was silent for a moment. She knew that if her mind wasn't as clouded, she would have come to answer far more quickly. 

“An heir. Tommen was his heir.” 

“Exactly. Tommen was Joffrey's heir until Joffrey had a son. Once Joffrey was dead with no son to inherit the throne, Tommen became king. It is imperative that a 'child' of Robert Baratheon sit upon the throne, or at least, his supposed child. One could argue that Renly is next in line however, Renly has not been seen since he fled the Red Keep with his niece. One could argue that Myrcella is next in line despite the fact that she is a young woman. If Tommen died, a fight for the throne would ensure and a war is the last thing we need at the moment.” 

“So Tommen must live.” Sansa seemed so saddened at the idea. In the back of her mind she was relieved because she didn't know if she could handle physically killing another human being. It was far easier to keep her hands clean and not have to witness the death of the condemned soul. That was what she was hoping with Theon. She had hoped that Tommen would sentence him for her or at least allow her to hand it out. Her father always said that the man who gave the sentence must swing the sword; it was the honorable thing. Yet, Sansa found nothing in honor. “What if Margaery were to give Tommen an heir? What then?” 

“Trust me, Sansa. That will not happen.” Baelish stated and his words gave him a proud grin. Sansa looked at his expression and she knew that he was proud of himself. It was moments like these that made Sansa's heart flutter; seeing him so gleeful with the despicable things he has done. It was the expression he wore when they used to sneak around Winterfell and she allowed him to do unspeakable things to her body. It was the look he wore after that first time on top of her father's desk. It was the look that told her that he had done something naughty.

“What did you do?” He said nothing but only grinned at her. The look caused her eyes to dry slightly as she looked at him. There was a mischievous glint in his eye and Sansa put her finger on his shoulder. She pushed him lightly and narrowed her ice blue eyes. Again he didn't answer so Sansa continue to gently nudge his shoulder with her finger. “Petyr, what did you do? Tell me.”

“I just took one of your more brilliant ideas and adapted its use.” He was being cryptic and clearly enjoying her irritation. He wasn't purposely avoiding the question because if it was something that was important for her to stay ignorant about, Baelish simply would have told her so; no matter how much it irritated her. This was different; he was teasing her with his smiles and knew that he would give in eventually. In the back of her mind she knew that he was doing this in order to make her feel better and to calm her down. 

“What idea?”

“The one you used on Jeyne Westerling to ensure that she never gave birth to your brother's child.” A luncheon she had long ago with Jeyne Westerling fluttered to her mind. She had not thought on the young girl who committed suicide in a long while. It was sad as she thought on it for a moment. Watching someone take their own life should leave a scar but it was far from the worst thing that happened to her.

“What? Moon tea? How?” 

“Do you remember Olyvar?” Sansa nodded at Baelish's question. He pulled away from her slightly and returned to the seat at the head of the table. He crossed his legs as he always did and his long fingers plucked a piece of cheese off of his plate. His expression was still smug and Sansa always enjoyed watching him explain his schemes to her. “Well, he is serving the Tyrells just has he had been since the moment Renly fled the capitol. He learned many things during their interludes including how and when the Queen takes her tea in the morning.” 

“But how are you possibly continuously giving her moon tea without her knowledge?” With her question, Baelish's grin only widened further. He held out his hand for her to take. Sansa slipped her small hand into his and he pulled her into his lap. Sansa made herself comfortable as he wrapped his arms around her holding her close to him. 

“One of her handmaidens feeds it to her.” Sansa gave him a questioning look, telling him that he needed to elaborate more. “The last thing Cersei wants is for Margaery to be the mother of her grandchild. I might have planted the idea in her mind. Olyvar was easily questioned by Margaery's handmaiden who Cersei planted there after Margaery's coronation. If Margaery ever discovered what really was in her tea and why she can't seem to become with-child, well then the truth would lead back to Cersei and not myself or you.” 

“But Margaery has had moon tea before. She knows what it taste like. How can you possibly serve it to her without her knowledge?” Margaery had once told her that she drank moon tea regularly in order to prevent her becoming with-child before she was married. She had taken both Joffrey and Tommen to bed in order to control them, and neither was her first. 

“There are many ways to mask the taste if done correctly.” Sansa remembered the bitterness of the tea that she had to force down her throat long ago. When she had tea with Jeyne Westerling, she hadn't done much to hide the taste due to the fact that she assumed the young girl had no idea what she was drinking but to those who were more knowledgeable, it was obvious. “You only had to drink it once Sweetling and you never will again.”

“I know.” Sansa would forget the taste or why she had to drink such a bitter liquid. It was a part of her and no matter how dark that part was, Baelish didn't want to change her. It was the reason why she was drawn to him when he first rode through those gates at Winterfell. Her family, no matter how much she wished they were still alive, wanted her to remain this pure and perfect daughter of the North. However, that girl had died long ago. He would curse down all Seven of the gods before allowing another man to touch her but he didn't want to change her. “Any child I have will be yours, I would never want to get rid of them.”

Baelish kissed her then. It wasn't a passionate kiss that lovers shared when they lusted after one another. It was a kiss between companions who depended upon the other. It was a kiss that spoke the words that got stuck in their throats. Sansa had thought about saying them then but couldn't. She knew how he felt and there was no point to words any more. Why speak something that has been shown time and time again? She felt it in his arms, his actions and voice. Words were nothing. Words were meant for poems and fantasies; false lies that anyone could speak.

“Are you feeling better?” Baelish asked her, placing his hand on her cheek. There were some dried tears on her skin, leaving a mark that made her features seems sad. He hated seeing such pain in her eyes. One King had damaged her beyond repair and Baelish was left to mold her back together. Now a new King was causing her pain and it was difficult to stand by and do nothing while his wife suffered. No matter his feelings, Baelish's game was far more important than Sansa's grief. Tommen was needed and a piece that Baelish wasn't willing to take off the board just yet. 

“No.” That was the answer he expected. “I'm thinking more clearly but that does not mean I am feeling any better. I still want Theon's head.” 

“I know but we can't go around Tommen to satisfy our desires. Not yet.”

“Then when?” Arya's voice sounded from the stairway. She had that impatient and furious look on her face. In her hand was the empty plate that once held her food. She must have finished her food while Sansa's and Baelish's were left to grow cold. “You always say wait and yet nothing happens! What are we waiting for?”

“Everything.” Sansa knew that everything took time. Baelish wanted everything and he would work to get it. Arya only saw the big moves and the climax but lacked the detail. She never thought anything through and it was something Baelish had been trying to instill in her. Sansa knew that one day, her sister would grow to understand the lesson but now she still had her impulsive Stark mind. 

“Exactly! We are waiting on everything! All we do is wait!” In her fury Arya tossed the plate downward, causing it to shatter across the wooden floor. “While we wait, Cersei and Jaime Lannister continue their cursed relationship that my brother had to die for! While we wait, Theon is still alive and could be sent the wall! A place Jon has crafted as his own? How is that justice! How is that anything! And what of Sybil Westerling? Being sent back home? Thats it? That’s her only punishment?”

“Sybil is dead.” Sansa stated, causing a pause in the air then. Arya had not know such things. Sansa had wanted to tell her but given the strain that has been between them for the last few days since Tywin's death, she didn't know how to approach her sister. She knew that within time, their relationship would be back to where it was but it wouldn't be any easy fix. “Or at least, she will be.”

“I didn't know that.”

“Sometimes Arya, you don't get the well deserved reward.” Baelish turned slightly and Sansa stood up from his lap. Baelish followed suit and stood. He dropped Sansa's hand and walked toward his sister-in-law. Sansa could see that there was a hard look in his eye. She knew that Arya was safe with Baelish but the reminder of just how dangerous he was, sent a chill down her spine. “Sometimes, closer never comes. Lady Westerling ordered the deaths of your brother, taking your father's life as well. In return we took Tywin from her, crippling the little power she had. We sent her packing back to her husband who no longer wanted her. All the while a trained assassin will end her life on her travels.”

“It's not good enough.” Arya replied through clenched teeth. Her hands balled into fists and her nails dug into her palm. While Sansa's anger was given through tears, Arya's was through violence. It was something that neither Stark daughter would be able to grow out of. It was part of who they were just as the past was already written. Nothing could erase that part. “She deserved worse. They all deserve worse. You allowed Sansa to have Joffrey. You bent your rules for your wife. Let me have Theon.” 

“No.”

“You're nothing more than a fucking hypocrite!” 

“Yes. I am.” That caused Arya to pause. She had never thought that Baelish would admit to such things. Sansa wanted to step in between them because it caused her pain to see the two most important people in her life fighting. There had been so much violence and fighting in her life, she didn't want it in her home as well. Baelish took a step forward and peered down at Arya's small frame. There was a deadly look on his face and a darkness in his eyes. Sansa had seen it before; the night she murdered Joffrey she had witnessed this side to her husband. “And I am far worse things than that. You will do best to remember that before you cross me Arya. No matter who you are and no matter what you mean to Sansa, if you disobey me, you won't will like what will happen to you. Do you understand me?”

“Yes.”

“Perfect.” Baelish turned away from her, leaving Arya slightly startled. She subconsciously knew that Baelish was a dangerous man but she never really saw it first hand. Baelish returned to his wife's side and kissed her cheek. “Are you alright?” Sansa nodded and attempted to give him a smile. He kissed her cheek again and squeezed her shoulders. “I'm going to head my solar for a few hours to attend to some business. Enjoy your evening.” With that, Baelish turned his back on both of them and entered the solar he had attached in order to be closer to Sansa in the evenings. Both girls watched him close the door behind him. 

“He will take care of Theon. One way or another he will. He promised me.” Sansa stated, attempting to make herself and her sister feel better. It was a useless attempt she knew for it had been a long day. Sansa wrapped her arms around herself. It was an old habit, one she had developed with she first was attacked by Joffrey. It made her feel as though she was molding the broken pieces of herself back together. 

“And you'll let him? You'll let him create all this chaos? He's dangerous Sansa.” It was a useless argument. Sansa was already married to him and even if she wanted out; which she didn’t, there wouldn't be a way out. Arya knew this but she had never seen it first hand; and never directed at her. “I never realized how terrifying he was.” Sansa turned from her sister and looked directly at the closed door. 

“It's part of why I adore him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is some slight foreshadowing in this chapter for anyone who is curious. Plus, I wanted to show some of the dealings Petyr has been working on behind the scenes. And as much as I love Arya, I needed her to see how scary Petyr can be. He meant what he said. If Arya crossed him........(thats not the foreshadowing I was talking about before anyone freaks out). 
> 
> Let me know your thoughts!


	93. Chapter 93

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry. I know it has been almost a month since I have updated but sometimes life gets in the way.

Chapter Ninety Three 

The docks were hazy. Summer was in full swing and the heat in the capitol was almost unbearable. Sansa had never experienced such summers. In the North, when the summer season was upon them, it was still cold. It wasn't the bone chilling, death inducing cold that the six year winter had brought but light snows were common enough. In the capitol, many had never seen snow, even in the winter. It was always warm and always sunny in King's Landing to the point that even rain was unusual. The unbearable heat made it very uncomfortable for Sansa in her current condition. 

Pregnancy was far more difficult than she expected. When she was young she had always thought that pregnancy was magical. She didn't remember many of her mother's pregnancies, except for Rickon. It had seemed so wonderful and Sansa couldn't wait to have children of her own. As she had grown older she realized how much of a fool she had been. While she was blissfuly thrilled with becoming a mother and loved feeling her child grow inside of her, there were some aspects that were just miserable and the heat was no help in that regard. 

Sansa rarely stepped outside the Red Keep because of the heat; the exception being when she was needed at the brothel and even then it was rare. She preferred to stay inside the castle where it was cool. She would visit the gardens but only if she was in the shade. Margaery understood her friend's condition and made sure that she was as comfortable as possible; for Sansa has become the Queen's closest friend. 

Yet, Sansa made an exception for this day. She had risen early, which wasn't unusual as sleeping was nearly impossible because the child loved kicking Sansa until she awoke. She had informed Ros of her intentions the night before and Ros was there to dress her for the day. It was in those moments that she missed Shae the most. While Ros was pleasant and efficient, she couldn't replace the friendship she had developed with Shae. Then again, Sansa refused to develop any sort of affection for the Northern whore in case anything were to happen to her. Sansa knew she wouldn't be able to handle losing another friend. 

She ordered the carriage to be ready to take her down to the docks. She was to be escorted by eight guards; five of them Northern men and three of them Baelish's men. When Baelish had become Lord of Harrenhal, he was granted the perks of a high lord. Banner-men were just one of many perks. Sansa as well had her own household guard since she had become Wardeness of the North. Many of the Northern banner-men were stationed in the North since Theon's rebellion and only a few had come to King's Landing in order to guard Sansa. She had become almost blind to the guards since she had been around them since she was a small child. 

However, with Theon being held prisoner in the Black Cells, Baelish had ordered stricter security surrounding both Sansa and Arya. It was unlikely that Theon would ever get out of the Black Cells alone but Baelish was unwilling to take the risk. So, when Sansa had made the decision to go to the docks in order to see Jeyne off, Baelish had insisted that she go with a few of her guards. She had toyed with the idea of taking Lady, as she did no matter where she was going in the Red Keep but it might be unsettling for the common people to see a large direwolf about. When Sansa would travel to the brothels, she always left Lady behind. 

She felt the carriage box that carried her through the streets of King's be put down. She waited a few seconds before the door to the carriage box was opened. One of her guards held out his hand for her. She grasped it and he helped her climb out of the carriage. She found that her balance was slightly off center since her weight had grown. The guard helped her steady herself before she looked around the dock. Several people were about, preparing for the ships departure. Sansa spotted Jeyne speaking with a man who appeared to be the captain. Jeyne smiled at him and nodded; taking in whatever information he was providing her. Once their conversation was over, Sansa called out her name.

Jeyne turned when she heard her name being called. Her eyes widened in shock and Sansa admired how well Jeyne appeared. Her hair was combed and pulled back nicely. She was dressed well, for Queen Margaery had taken pity upon the woman and clothed her according to Jeyne's sense of style. The circles under Jeyne's eyes appeared to have vanished slightly and she appeared to have gained a bit of weight; which was good seeing that she had become sickly when she was on the run and held in the tower Joffrey had put her in. Jeyne walked toward the carriage that Sansa had been in, in order to see her old friend. 

“Sansa?” Jeyne seemed surprised by her old friend's appearance at the docks. That saddened Sansa slightly. She knew that she had not been a good friend to Jeyne the last few years, consumed by her own misery, and her treatment only got worse once Jeyne appeared in King's Landing. “I didn't expect you.”

“No, you didn't and I'm sorry for that.” Sansa smiled gently at her and reached out, taking her hand. She wanted to convey some sort of comfort but Sansa realized that she wasn't exactly sure how she to do that. It had been so long since she felt the need to be comforting to someone other than Arya. Baelish wasn't exactly a man who needed comfort, for his comfort came from what laid between her legs. When it came to Margaery, well any comfort she offered the Queen was born out of manipulation and what could further Sansa's agenda. What she wanted was to show Jeyne she did care and that she wished her well returning home; those words were not easily spoken. “How are you feeling?”

“Nervous.” She gave a small laugh that echoed her feelings. Jeyne looked over her shoulder at the ship and then back at Sansa. “I'm glad to be going home at least. Part of me never thought I would see the North again, not after what Theon did. I thought I would be banished...or worse. I guess I have you to thank for that. If you hadn't spoken to the King, I don't know if he would have allowed me to return home. I'm surprised that you let me go home.” 

“Of course you can go home. I wouldn't take that from you. I don't blame you for what happened to my mother and Rickon. It wasn't your fault.” Jeyne looked down. Sansa could see that Jeyne had been blaming herself for what had transpired when Theon attempted to overtake Winterfell and during his brief reign as Lord of Winterfell. “Speaking to King Tommen is only the least I could do. I just wish he would have taken all of my advice.” 

“Yes. You're not the only one.” The last time Sansa saw Jeyne off she had just been married. The new bride had been so in love with her husband and the idea of the adventure she was just about to lead. Now, it was amazing to see how much she changed. The hatred that grew inside of her for her husband was the most Sansa could relate to Jeyne. “I had thought that I would be returning home a widow; I had hoped for it. But I suppose that the Old Gods are punishing me for such hope.” 

“Maybe they are punishing me for I have done far worse things than you.” Sansa admitted. The fact that her actions didn't bother is what scared Sansa. If the twelve year old girl she used to be, the one who dreamed of songs and stories, saw the woman she became, she would be horrified. She had become the villain of the stories she had once loved; the villain had always lost in her mind but now things are different. Sansa realized that good didn't always triumph over evil; but sometimes it did. She knew that one day, everything she built with Baelish could come crashing down. It terrified her. 

“I'm so sorry.”

“Jeyne, I already said I don't blame you-”

“Not for that. Well, I am sorry for everything Theon did but that’s not what I was apologizing for.” Jeyne paused, thinking of what she needed to say. It was new for Sansa because her old friend never needed to pause for anything. Jeyne had always said what came to her mind and the fact that she was thinking before she spoke, told Sansa how much she had changed. “A year and half ago, when we were at Winterfell, we were such different people; or at least I was. I didn't see it then but I should have. You had already changed and you may be a different person today compared to the day I got married but...I'm sorry I'm rambling.” 

“No, don't apologize, just continue.” 

“What I'm trying to say is that you were not a good friend to me these last couple months. Old me would have hated you for it. I would have ranted and cried and told you how horrible you were. But the thing is, I don't deserve your kindness.” Sansa moved to interrupt her but Jeyne stopped her. “No, let me finish. I don't deserve it, not because of what Theon did, which is beyond reprehensible. I don't deserve it because I wasn't a good friend to you for years. I was blind. I was so blind.” 

“We were children Jeyne. Children grow and both of us have been put through things that no one should have to go through.” Sansa placed her hand on her growing belly, begging to feel the child move. While pregnancy wasn't her favorite thing, the child's movement brought her comfort. “You lost a child and I could never imagine that pain.” 

“I've suffered yes but I'm not talking about that.” Jeyne waved that off as though it was nothing. She wanted to focus on Sansa, something the latter wasn't comfortable with. “When Lord Eddard broke your engagement with Prince Joffrey, I knew you were heartbroken but for all the wrong reasons. I didn't see the truth. I didn't see what was right in front of my eyes. It wasn't something that would have occurred to me, but it should have. Something clearly was wrong with you and I didn't even think to ask what it could possibly be.”

“You were not the only one Jeyne. My own family, beside Arya and Maester Luwin, couldn't see what was going on with me. I hid it from everyone and pushed everyone away. Even if you did try and get me to talk, at the time, I wouldn't have. I would have fought you because I couldn't accept it. For a long time I pretended it didn't happen until I couldn't anymore.” If it wasn't for Baelish, Sansa would have buried that trauma so far down until it broke her. She was certain that eventually it would have broken her and put her into an early grave. Baelish corrupted her but he also saved her. 

“True.” Jeyne gave a bitter laugh and a small nod in agreement. “You wouldn't have and even if you did tell me, I wouldn't have believed you. I didn't believe you a few months ago in my cell when you told me. Even after Joffrey....even after that day in the throne room. I didn't want to see King Joffrey for who he truly was. I was blind and wanted him to be the King we had dreamed he would be. I was still, I don't know, grieving I guess.”

“Theon?”

“No. No. That shipped sailed. I had already abandoned any hope that Theon was the man I loved and thought he was. I didn't want Joffrey to be the same. I didn't want to be wrong about him as well.” A soft breeze from the Narrow Sea came over them and Jeyne crossed her arms for warmth. Sansa welcomed the breeze as she found it cooling from the heat. “When your engagement was over, I mourned it more than you did. Of course you were mourning something far worse. Gods I was so selfish and I didn't even realize it. I mourned the loss of your engagement because it meant that I was never going to be your lady in waiting like we always dreamed.”

Guilt rose up in Sansa because she remembered those dreams. She remembered the late nights that Jeyne and herself would stay up, imagining what it would be like when Sansa married Joffrey and became Queen. What Jeyne didn't know was that the young Sansa never intended to take Jeyne to court. Jeyne was nothing more than a steward's daughter and Sansa only made those promises not to offend her friend. Her young mind didn't understand how hurtful it would have been if Sansa did become Queen but left Jeyne behind. 

“I'm glad I didn't marry him.” Sansa stated. Marrying Joffrey was something born out of a nightmare. If she was forced to take his hand and become his Queen, Sansa was certain she would have flung herself off the highest tower. “Even this life, as dark and horrible as it can be, I never would want to marry him. He is so much more than a monster.” There was so much that Jeyne did not know and so much Sansa wouldn't tell her. 

Jeyne gave a small look and there was a question in her eyes. In her time as a prisoner in King's Landing, Jeyne began to see Sansa in the light that her old friend worked so hide before. When they both lived in the North, Sansa pretended to be something she wasn't. She wanted to be the perfect daughter of Ned and Catelyn Stark. However, Joffrey had robbed her of that. No matter how hard she tried to hide her true self, there were always cracks in her mask. Jeyne never saw them but if she looked back now, they were obvious. If she bothered to see at all, Jeyne would have seen how damaged her friend was. Suddenly, she felt the need to mourn the friend she once had because the Sansa she had been friends with and loved was long dead. Before her stood Lady Baelish and she was a fearsome thing to behold. 

“Did you do it?” Jeyne asked. The thought had crept inside the back of her mind before but she always dismissed it. She never thought her friend capable of such a heinous crime but now she wasn't so sure. Suddenly, Sansa and Lady Baelish were two different people to her. Her friend had died long ago and Lady Baelish just stood in her place. She would always be indebted to Lady Baelish for allowing her to go home but Jeyne wondered if she could ever become friends with this person. “Did you kill him?” 

“Are you really asking me this?” Jeyne said nothing but her silence answered the question. Sansa's gaze was unwavering and cold. She didn't want to answer but knew that Jeyne wouldn't leave it alone and it would fester. If Jeyne had time to think upon her question and come to a certain conclusion, it could be harmful to her family. She needed to put this in a way that Jeyne understood. “Let me ask you this Jeyne, who do you really blame for your son's death? Who took him from you?” 

“Theon.” It was a quick response and one that seemed to be second nature. The answer didn't surprise Sansa, for it was obvious. Jeyne could have blamed herself for her son's death or even Joffrey for throwing her in horrible conditions. She could have blamed Sansa because at the end of the day, she was the reason Jeyne was married to Theon in the first place. 

“The moment he left you in the Stormlands, he took that baby from you. If you had one moment, just one second to take the most important thing away from him, would you? Could you make him pay? Could you take his life?” It was a loaded question and Sansa knew the answer. Jeyne was gentle and no matter how angry she was, she was not a murder. However, just because one cannot be a killer does not mean that they couldn't wish someone dead. 

“I had hoped that when I headed North, that I would be a widow.” Jeyne wanted to be free of Theon just as much as Sansa needed to be free of Joffrey. Jeyne looked down at her hands as though she was ashamed of admitting the truth. It was a dark thought and one that shouldn't be said aloud. It went against everything Jeyne had been raised with. 

“Theon took Vayon from you and Joffrey took something from me.” Sansa felt her body go stiff and her arms go around herself as though she needed to protect herself. A lump formed in her throat, preventing her from speaking. She could feel her heart beating in her chest, threatening to break through. Jeyne reached out and squeezed her arm; giving her a warm and encouraging smile. “Joffrey robbed me of myself. He broke me into a thousand little pieces and not matter how hard my sister or my husband try and piece them back together, I'm still broken. He shattered every dream I ever hand and made every fear become a reality. He killed the girl I used to be.”

Jeyne said nothing at first, just gazing at Sansa as though she was seeing her for the very first time. Her eyes were far wiser than they had been when she had left Winterfell. There was an understanding that only woman who suffered and endured loss knew. Sansa wondered briefly what trauma Theon made her endure on their travels together. She wondered what exact moment she stopped loving him. Was it when he left her? Or when her child died? It was a truth Sansa would never know and she could live with that. 

“I'll never say a word.” 

“I'm Wardeness of North now. If you do, I'll know and trust me you don't want to see the consequences of loose lips.” It was a warning and a threat; she only hoped that Jeyne heeded her warning. If the knowledge that Sansa was behind the murder of King Joffrey, then her death along with Arya, Baelish and their unborn child was certain. She knew that Baelish always had an escape plan for if things went south. If Jeyne did share her secret, Sansa was certain that before she fled Westeros or was put to her death, she would make sure Jeyne was executed in the North. She felt sorry for her old friend but not enough to spare her is Jeyne betrayed her. Sansa gave Jeyne a grim smile. “But I trust you won't speak of it. You're my old friend. And it will be like when we were girls, sharing secret late into the night.” 

“Yes. Just like when we were girls.” If it were anyone else, Sansa would be concerned about her secret being out but Jeyne wasn't political. She would gain nothing from sharing her secret. Jeyne wanted nothing more than to be home with her parents again and pick up the pieces of her life. She cared nothing for court anymore. She had enough of it. 

A bald man tapped Jeyne on the shoulder and she looked at him. He told her that they were prepared to set sail. She nodded and told him that she would be on board in a moment. The boat wouldn't leave without her, for it was commanded that Jeyne to be on it. It was the King's command and no fool would disobey an order; even if the King was a fool himself. 

“I guess this is goodbye then.” Sansa didn't know what else to say. Her emotions were vastly different from when Jeyne had left the North for the Iron Islands. At that time Sansa had wanted nothing more than to see the back of Jeyne, hoping to never hear from her again; even if it was necessarily her that bothered Sansa. Now, the red head was almost sad to see her leave. This new and wiser Jeyne was someone that maybe Sansa could become friends with. “I really do wish you the best.” 

“Will I ever see you again?” Jeyne's voice was timid; almost as though she was scared to ask it. Jeyne had never been North without Sansa. Now, Sansa ruled over it all and wasn't even there. The vast wilderness of the cold tundra seemed lonely. It wouldn't easy because many still view her as Theon Greyjoy's bride and may not welcome her. Their cold and bitter attitudes toward her may not be obvious but Sansa had given Jeyne a full pardon, but that did not mean all shared the same views. But icy stares and hushed tones behind ones back were just as sharp as a knife in the heart. 

“Maybe. One day.” The truth was that Sansa wasn't certain if she would ever see her again. The mere thought of stepping foot in snow again was frightening. She feared that the cold would only bring memories of a happier time. Summer was upon them and it was a time for change. She was beginning to see that she left the cold behind her and began to thaw. There was no part of her that wanted to go back there. If she did, it wouldn't for a long while and when her child could run. “Goodbye Jeyne.”

“Goodbye.” 

With that, her old friend turned her back and walked toward the ship. The guards Sansa had granted her when Tommen granted her permission to return home followed her. Sansa watched as she climbed the plank in order to board the ship, with help from a guard. Once on board, Jeyne turned and looked over the railing. She gave a wave, which Sansa happily returned.

Sansa couldn't see Jeyne's face but she hoped that she was smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the last time we will see Jeyne. I see her going back to the North and living out her life. She lives with her parents for a few years, mourns her son. I won't say much but she will find happiness again. I really want her to be happy because she is one of those characters that you hate in the beginning (because they're an idiot) but grow once they have had their fair share of tragedy. 
> 
> I might do an index once this story is completed in order to give an idea of what happens to the characters later on and Jeyne would be on there.


	94. Chapter 94

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm back! I feel that it is some time for some smut and fluff. Not everything in Boden has to be plot filled and sad, right?

Chapter Ninety-Four

Sansa rarely slept anymore. The baby kicked inside of her and it woke her most nights. To make matters worse, she felt as though she needed to use the chamber pot more often now. She found herself rising two or three times in the night in order to relieve herself. She tried to be as quiet as possible in order not to disturb her husband but sometimes she failed. 

When her sickness was in full swing, Sansa would rush to the chamberpot and most times, she would feel Baelish's hands pulling her hair back while the child made her stomach churn. She didn't get as sick as often anymore but it seemed Baelish always knew when she was suffering. At least the sickness was few and far between now. She was able to eat more and keep everything down. She would be glad once this child was born because she never realized how being pregnant during the summer season was miserable. It was just another moment that the songs had lied about. 

A week after Jeyne's departure, Sansa found herself wide awake after yet another impromptu chamber pot visit. She laid in bed staring at the ceiling, listening to Baelish's soft snoring. He wasn't loud and the sound normally put her to sleep but it seemed that nothing would work. She pulled herself from the soft and warm bed while her husband slept. She grabbed her light silk robe and tied it around her. After slipping on a pair of soft slippers, Sansa snuck out the their chamber and went to the balcony. 

She knew that Arya wouldn't wake because the young girl slept like the dead now. It seemed that Arya continued to push herself harder and harder with her training that it left her physically drained at the end of an evening. After eating her supper, Arya would fall asleep in her chambers, leaving time for Sansa and Baelish to be alone. She cherished those moments because she knew that soon they wouldn't be alone anymore; for the child would be with them. There would be a wet-nurse of course to give Sansa a break and a few moments with her husband but it would be a massive change. 

Placing her hand on the growing stomach, Sansa smiled. As though sensing her hand, the child kicked in answer. Baelish would be excited for this was new. Every time he rested his hand on her stomach, he would pout because he couldn't feel anything. She figured it would be soon that he would feel something because she was rather far along. She had assumed that it would come earlier because they estimated two more turns of the moon before she delivered. 

Sansa didn't know how long she sat on the balcony but soon she could see the light begin to shine over the city. There was something magical about the morning, when the rest of the world was sleeping. It was as though she knew something no one else did. She got the first glimpse of the morning while everyone else waited with their eyes closed. It was almost as though there was no evil in the world for a few brief moments, there was only peace. Something that wouldn't last for long. 

She could feel the warmth of the sun on her skin. Even early in the morning the heat beat down. Having grown up in the bitter cold, even during the summer season, Sansa was not accustomed to such heat. When Ros came to ready her for the day, Sansa decided that she would have her bring a large bucket of ice in order to keep herself cool and refreshed. Margaery had some of the servants carry large fans in order to cool her when she was in the gardens. Sansa wondered if she could convince Baelish to indulge her with the same luxury, she was certain she could. 

“Sansa?” She turned when she heard her name being called. Her husband stood in the doorway of the balcony with heavy eyes. It was clear that he had just woken up. His eyes held dark circles under them and his hair was standing in all directions. The silk tunic that he slept in was wrinkled and messed. He was far from the put together appearance he always had. This was Baelish at his most unguarded moment; something only Sansa got to see. “I woke and you were gone.”

“Can't sleep. Your child is dancing.” This brought a wide smile to his lips. Sansa returned the grin and held out her hand. Baelish took her hand and she stood. He sat down upon the chair that she had been lounging in and then placed her on his lap. He wrapped his arms wound her budding middle. “I felt the child move.”

“You always feel him move.” Baelish kissed her shoulder and she could feel the hair from his beard tickle her skin. At first it made her giggle but eventually she had grown used to it. The tingle was a welcome sensation now. She knew that she would miss it if he ever decided to be rid of it. It was such a part of him and who he was that she would be surprised if he did intend shave it off. 

“He?” Baelish gave her a smirk but said nothing. Neither Sansa nor Baelish ever hinted at what they wished the gender of their child to be but she knew a son would be preferable. It would give Baelish an heir to Harrenhal and his position. While he would love a daughter, a son was needed. “I felt your daughter from the outside. On my palm.” 

Sansa raised her palm as though to show him some invisible mark the child left. Her palm was bare but Baelish reached for it, looking at it in wonder. His fingers traced the spot in wonder. He seemed so lost in amazement that Sansa did not dare breathe a word. Baelish leaned down and kissed her palm before brushing his cheek against it. He seemed lost in the contact. It was a rare moment. Baelish was always in control and never let anyone see his weaknesses. Yet when it came to her and this child, they could easily break them. 

His hand lingered on her skin and suddenly the child kicked Baelish's hand. He froze for a moment and Sansa never looked away from his face. The tired eyes suddenly were wide awake and in awe. A smile grew on his lips and it wasn't one she was used to seeing. Baelish always wore a devious smirk that made her want him but this was different. This was a look of an expectant father marveling at feeling his child for the first time. It was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen. 

When Baelish pulled his eyes away from the swell that held his growing child, Sansa couldn’t help but kiss him. Their lips locked and she kissed him with such fever that she couldn't breathe. She felt as though she was possessed by something because all she could think about was getting closer to her husband. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and her fingers clawed at his scalp. Their tongues danced with each other but Baelish had to pull away in order to catch his breath. 

While he sucked in a deep breath, Sansa moved her lips down his jaw bone to his neck. She started to suck and nip at his pulse point. Her teeth pulled at his skin and she knew that she would leave a mark. It wouldn't be the first time but Baelish always wore clothing that had high necks that would cover any bruises she would leave. While he would always be immensely proud of her love bites, Baelish had no need for the entire court to know of their bedroom activities. 

As Sansa sucked, her hand ran down his chest. She yanked the silk tunic from his evening breeches. She could feel the bulge in his trousers begin to grow and she palmed him through the fabric. Baelish groaned at the feel of her hand groping him and her lips sucking on his neck. Her hand found a rhythm that matched her lips. Soon she began to pull at the strings that held his breeches together. Slowly, she untied all of them and his member was released. She didn't look up from his neck but wrapped her hand around his thick, hard cock. She began a slow pace, moving her hand up and down; feeling his skin move with her. It was wet and hard, but it made her desire him even more. She could feel the wet heat pool between her legs. It seemed that with her pregnancy she always craved his touch more. 

“Gods Sansa.” Baelish said with a breathy tone, as he bucked up into her hand. He groaned and cursed as she bite down on his neck. She could feel his jaw clench together and flex as she continued to suck and bite him. He reached down and grabbed her wrist; stopping her movement. He pulled her hand away. He wasn't going last much longer and he didn't want to come all over her hand. It would be far more enjoyable it he was able to spill himself inside of her. “Stop. Please.” 

Sansa pulled her lips away and pressed her forehead against his. She gave him a naughty smirk as she adjusted herself on his lap. She moved so she was straddling his legs. Her hands went to grip the back of the chair while Baelish bunched up her robe and nightgown to her hips. He moved her smallclothes to the side so she was bare to him. Never taking their eyes off of each other, Sansa slowly slid down onto him. 

“Petyr.” Sansa whispered as he filled her and stretched her. No matter how many times he had her, it always felt new and exciting. She never grew bored of him. Their eyes met and Baelish's hands went to her hips. She rose up and then slowly back down. Over and over, Sansa repeated this motion, never picking up speed. They stayed at that tortuous pace and their eyes never broke contact. His hands guided her tempo. Their breaths mingled together and they could feel the other's on their skin. “Don't stop. Please.” 

“Never.” It came out as a muffled grunt instead of actual words. His one hand left her hip and moved down over her bunched nightgown. His fingertips graced her skin and it caused her to shiver. They were slow and he dragged them down to her center and where they were connected. He rubbed her clit slowly and Sansa could feel the need to search for that release building inside of her. She rotated her hips in order to chase that budding need. Baelish's lips went to her neck and he kissed his way up till he reached her ear. “Come for me Sweetling.”

The sound of his voice whispering in her ear triggered her release hard. She felt her entire body erupt and her back arch, pressing her breast to his chest. She could feel the warmth of his seed spill inside of her. She buried her head in his shoulder, just taking in the smell of him. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her as close to him as he could. He remained inside her and Sansa didn't want him to move or leave her. She could feel his fingers tracing her spine through her robe and nightgown. He shifted slightly and kissed the side of her head. 

“Thank you, for this gift.” Baelish whispered to her and she knew he didn't mean allowing him between her legs frequently. He meant the child that grew inside her. Neither of them spoke of their emotions preferring to let actions to speak for them. Both had no qualms driving the dagger deeper into someone else's back but when it came to each other, their actions were nothing more than pure devotion. Baelish felt the same when it came to their child. He would do anything to protect his family. “I can never thank you enough.” 

The emotions swelled up inside her and she couldn't hold them in. All those years she tried to feel nothing all came tumbling down as the child grew. It was as though she had no control over anything she felt. The tears pooled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. She sucked in a deep breath and sobbed into his neck. Baelish quickly pulled her away from him in order to gaze at her face. His eyes were filled with concern. It wasn't uncommon for Sansa to start crying at random times anymore. 

“Sansa, Sweetling, what is it?” She couldn't speak for a moment; she could only sob. Baelish never let go of her, instead just held her close and comforted her. Sansa honestly couldn't say why she was crying now. All she knew was that the stress of the past several months was something she could no longer hold inside of her. She just needed to feel better and knew that her husband would be the only person she felt like she could go to. “You're worrying me. Talk to me.” 

“I'm sorry.” She sniffed and wiped her nose in the most unladylike manner. Baelish reached up and wiped the tears from her eyes. He leaned in and kissed the top of her head. They shifted, causing his member to fall out of her. He adjusted himself and laced his trousers back up quickly. Sansa moved so she was no longer straddling him. She rested her head against his chest and his arms held her against him. “I'm sorry I got your shirt wet.”

“Sweetling, never apologize. Not to me. Now talk to me.”

“Its just, sometimes I don't know how everything got this way. One minute I'm at Winterfell, a young girl who was barely holding herself together and the next I'm a married woman in King's Landing. I was miserable in Winterfell but now I'm happier than I have ever been, even before everything with Joffrey happened. How fucked up is that? My entire family, except Arya, has been murdered and I'm happier now than I was when my family was alive?”

“But are you really happy Sansa?” Baelish wanted nothing more than to make his wife happy but there were times, when looking at her, he could see the sorrow etched on her face. Her eyes always held a dark pain behind him. He wished that he could make all of it disappear but he knew he couldn't. He could kill, fuck and maim anyone who caused her pain but he knew that it would take away that pain. 

“I'm happy with you.” That caused him to grin. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. She laughed lightly but it sounded more like a hiccup because she still had silent tears falling down her cheeks. She buried her face into his chest and inhaled. She could feel the calm coming over her. Since she became with child, tears were a common occurrence but so was the calm after the storm. When Baelish was there, because sometimes he wasn't when she had these moments, he made the calm so much better. 

“And I'm happy with you but that is different. You can be happy with me as a husband but be unhappy in life.” His words sunk in and that was how she felt. There moments that she adored; the moments when she was in his arms; luncheons with Margaery and Arya; feeling the child move inside her. Sansa played the game but she didn't love it like her husband did. The game was a part of him but once Sansa was done with her revenge, she wanted out. She wanted nothing more than settle down with Baelish and live her life. Part of her was terrified that he wouldn't be able to give it up for her. 

“I just want them back. I just want to be with you but I want them. I want our child to know his or her grandparents. I want my mother to hold my hand when I go into labor. I want cousins for our child to play with but he will have none of that. I don't see Arya ever having children and I would never want her to do something she didn't want.” She poured her heart out and she could feel her insides tightening in fear. Sansa wasn't used to telling anyone how she felt, even her husband. “I just want them back.” 

“If I could bring them back for you, I would. I would bring everyone back from the dead if I could see you smile.” He kissed her head again and Sansa knew that he would do anything for her. He would even bring back her Uncle Brandon despite the fact that he hated that man with a passion. He would erase the damage Joffrey had done and stop the Cersei and Jamie from pushing Bran from that tower. He would change all of history if he could. “You didn't grow up with cousins, remember? The only cousin you have is Robin and you have never met him. Trust me my dear, this child will not grow up alone. I plan on having you with child often.” That caused Sansa to chuckle and hit his chest lightly. 

“I just want Harrenhal to be finished. I want this baby to be able to run through the woods and play in the rivers like you did as a child. I want them to be happy.” Sansa closed her eyes and could see it in her mind. She could see the tall trees and she could hear the river rushing by. She could hear the laughter of her children as the played in the woods. She could picture herself reading to them as it rained outside and going to bed in their master chamber at night. It was a perfect picture.

“Soon. Soon everything will be in place and Harrenhal will be completed. We can move in and if you never want to see King's Landing again, then you will never have to.” She smiled but knew that even if they moved to Harrenhal completely, she would one day see the capitol again. It was unavoidable and she knew her husband. The game was apart of him. Giving it up would be like losing a part of himself and she didn't want him to change. 

“When we leave, will you be able to give it up? The game?” She knew that there would be times in their marriage when they would be separated but the idea of him leaving her behind in Harrenhal was painful. She didn't want to be away from him. Ever since they married, they had always been together. She was able to go to bed with him every night, even if she had to drag him out of his solar. He always was there when she slept. If she had a nightmare, something that was common since the night in the Godswood with Joffrey, he was always able to calm her down. 

“I told you once that many things can be accomplished over a distance. I can control the Seven Kingdoms from my solar in the Riverlands.” It sounded perfect but Sansa had her doubts. Over time, she felt that Tommen and Margaery would stop taking his counsel from such a long distance, especially when they would have so many closer whispers going into their ear. Sansa and Baelish would become a distance memory and while she wouldn't mind that, she knew that her husband wouldn't be able to give up that control. 

“It's such a beautiful dream.” 

“Sansa look at me.” She listened to her husband and gazed up at him. His green eyes bore into hers. She knew that whatever was on his mind, it was serious. This wasn't the Littlefinger mask he wore or the many expressions that her husband wore when he looked at her. This was the look of a man who needed to make something clear; something that meant the world to him. “I have dreamed of becoming something more than just a boy with nothing to his name. I became a high Lord with an endless stream of gold. I dreamed of having power over the throne. I now have the Queen whispering my bidding into the King's ear. I dreamed of having a vast estate. I will have Harrenhal once the repairs are completed, which they almost are. I dreamed of having a beautiful wife. I have you. When I married you, I dreamed of what our children would be like. You're giving me that child. I dream of taking you and my family home to live out our days all the while pulling the strings of the on goings in King's Landing. I have gotten everything I have ever wanted because I worked for it. I sacrificed and I did things that young boy who was filled with dreams could never have imagined. I did all of it because I had beautiful dreams; dreams that have come true. I promise you, that our dream of Harrenhal and going home will happen.” 

She believed him. When he looked at her like that, she knew that he believed it. Yet Sansa couldn't help but question this dream. The one thing she learned in life was that nothing was promised and everything can go wrong. She had been such a naive child and her entire world had come crashing down upon her. Her innocence was ripped away from her and no amount of pretty words from her husband could make her doubt go away. The world taught her that the worst could always happen. 

“Don't make promises you might not be able to keep.” She chided lightly. Baelish laughed, knowing that her tears were subsiding. He knew that she wouldn't believe his words and that he would have to show her with his actions. He knew from the moment that he met her that pretty words were not going to win her over. She had heard pretty words a thousands times over and brought her nothing but pain. Words meant nothing while actions meant everything.

“I will keep every word.” He ran his fingers through her hair and she leaned in to hear his heart beat. It was soothing and made her feel relaxed. “Our children will play in the rivers and woods of the Riverlands. They will want for nothing. They will have two parents who will do anything to protect them. They will be guided by their willful aunt Arya who will let them get away with things that we forbid.” That caused Sansa to snort because she knew that her sister would do exactly that. “When Roslin and Edmure have children, I'm sure that they will make friends with them, so in a way, they will have cousins and who knows, maybe Arya will find someone she deems tolerable enough to marry.”

“Highly doubtful and if she did, I would be terrified of whom this man would be. Not a high lord I'm certain.” Arya was one who never cared for titles and would love a stable boy if she so pleased. Sansa wished she could be as free as Arya but knew that she would never be able to let go of the classes that separated her from others. “Its a beautiful picture.”

“And I promise that it will come to pass.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I did it. I finally broke down and created a twitter.....like 30 mins ago. It brand brand BRAND new. I have no idea if I will stick with it but who knows, maybe I will love it. 
> 
> Follow me if you like 
> 
> @erica_noelle180


	95. Chapter 95

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know! I'm awful. BUT you're getting a two for one today. Hopefully that makes up for it...right?

Chapter Ninety Five

Baelish leaned back in his chair with a satisfied smirk on his lips. There was an array of parchment, ink and quills littering his desk. It was business but work that he found he couldn't conduct in the Red Keep. Some things were too sensitive and if the wrong eyes glanced upon them, Baelish might find himself look up at his wife's head on a stick. He couldn't risk such an outcome and thus he maneuvered his pieces upon the board accordingly. 

His schemes were going just as he had hoped, if not with a few disconcerting mishaps along the way. He knew that he has played his part and now it was a waiting game but he knew his pieces. He knew the moves they would make. Baelish believed that if he studied his opponents and pawns well enough, he would be able to predict the moves they would make. He could be wrong, for he has been before but he accounted for that. He found that it was easier to prepare to be wrong because it would be possible to maneuver mistakes if they'd been planned. Some opponents, such as Cersei, never understood that fact. 

Baelish fingered the parchment containing the news that he had been waiting for. He read the unfamiliar but elegant handwriting, offering him thanks. The author was pleased with the gifts he sent and with whom was waiting in Volantis. The Golden Company were not what Baelish would consider reliable and planned for outcome that they would betray their promise to protect the final gift. While he may not be the one who arranged this particular arrival, Baelish wasn't above taking said credit. He had done enough and planted enough seeds for it to grow that he felt that he was owed the gratitude that was written to him in this letter. 

They were moving forward and soon everything would change. 

Baelish's musings soon turned Harrenhal and what would happen once Sansa and he relocated there. He promised her that they would one day watch their family grow in the Riverlands and he had every intention of keeping that promise. He knew she was concerned about his happiness there and being far away from the game but he meant what he told her, so many things could be done from a distance. He had proved this the year he spent traveling and collecting taxes. In the back of his mind it amazed him that he departed for the venture on King Robert's orders almost two years ago. Now his end game was in sight and Baelish didn't know what he would do with himself once he saw all of his hard work come to fruition; but the game would not end once he reached his goal. If there was a throne, the game would always be there to welcome him. 

When they would leave for the Riverlands, Baelish knew that they would have to expand their business ventures. He would buy out the brothels there just as he had done in King's Landing. He would of course still have this one and his others but Olyvar and Ros would run the day-to-day business. Harrenhal would be an adjustment for them both but one that was worthwhile. Harrenhal was massive and Baelish grinned at the thought of having Sansa in each room. Her screams would echo off the stone walls. 

Sansa was back in their chambers preparing the nursery. While most of the work had been done, there were a few sentimental items from Winterfell that had just arrived that morning. After their encounter on the balcony, Ros had arrived to care for her mistress and informed Baelish that a shipment had arrived. When he saw that it was blankets, pillows, and toys from Winterfell that all the Stark children had grown with, he sent the shipment directly to their chambers and Sansa spent the remainder of the day reminiscing. She didn't come to the brothel as planned but he knew that it was due to her wanting to reveal and arrange the finishing touches of their child's room. He smiled at the thought of her excitement when receiving the old family items. 

He liked seeing her happy. The game had taken so much from her that he could see how much it affected her. He remembered that depressed and broken woman he met back at Winterfell and marveled at the woman she became. He knew that Joffrey's attack still affected her and would for the rest of her days; just like her family's murder. Sybil was dead and Theon would soon meet the same fate. Baelish had made the mistake of allowing Theon to live and go to the Iron Islands; Baelish refused to make that same mistake again. It was uncertain what King Tommen would do but he wouldn't have a choice if Theon committed suicide while in the Black Cells. Arya's man was gone but he knew several men who would be willing to take on the task.

His eyes flickered towards the open window and saw that it was getting dark. He would have to leave soon in order to return to their chambers before his wife went to sleep. He would work late into the evening but it was usually in the small solar located in their chambers and after Sansa would fall asleep. He rarely ever stayed at the solar he conducted the business required of the Master of Coin and even less so at the brothel. Ever since his marriage to Sansa, he found he enjoyed being home in the evenings. When he was married to Lysa, it was the complete opposite. He would work himself madly in order to avoid being alone with her; until he killed her. There was a knock on the solar door that pulled him from his musings. He granted entrance and Olyvar opened the door with a sack of gold in his hands.

“Was Lord Clever satisfied?” Baelish asked as Olyvar closed the door behind him. The blonde man moved forward and placed the sack of gold on the brothel owner’s desk. Baelish knew that all the gold was not from just Lord Clever but the haul for the night so far. There was a enough gold there for a small family to survive three years however Baelish wasn’t one to hand out his earnings to anyone. “Has it been divided up?” 

“Yes, Lord Clever sends his thanks but is a bit pre occupied currently.” This caused Baelish to chuckle. Lord Clever was a regular and always wanted the same girl; a tall blonde who had a striking resemblance to the Queen Mother. The first time Clever requested this particular whore, Baelish knew that it was some fantasy about bedding King Robert's wife. Now, it was clear that Clever had fallen for the whore. If Clever wasn't married, he would have made an offer for the girl, damning the rest of the world. Baelish ensured that she was never used by another patron, Clever's exclusive whore but it came at a price. Baelish charged more because if he didn't, he would take a loss. Clever was more than willing to pay the extra expense. “And yes, it has been divided. This is seventy five percent.”

“Perfect.” Baelish fingered the bag. Olyvar was the only one Baelish would allow to divide the gold because Olyvar wasn't a fool. Of course Baelish checked the books to ensure he wasn't being cheated but the blonde man who quickly rose in ranks at his establishment knew not to cross him. He had seen what happened to those who disappoint Baelish and didn't want to have his throat slashed any time soon. “Any troubles that I should be aware of?” 

“Tessa is a bit bruised and battered. I called the maester to look her over but I feel she should be fine.” Tessa was one of the whores who was able to take pain. When Baelish would have a customer who wanted to brutalize a woman he would offer them Tessa. She was sold to him after her maester was displeased with her service. She had been a kitchen wench and her lord often used her more than just cooking. The first three weeks she was in Baelish's service, she was on bed rest recovering from the beating her old lord had given her. Baelish told her that her lord would never lay a hand on her but other men would. In a fit of deviance, she asked him what would happen if she disobeyed, he promised her that no one would find her body. 

“Will she be able to work tomorrow night?” 

“No.”

“Charge the customer double. Two nights worth at least.” Olyvar nodded, know full well that the extra charge wasn't based out of concern for Tessa but because he would be losing gold due to the fact that she was unable to work. Baelish did not like to lose gold and would think of some way to gain the gold he needed. That was talent and Olyvar couldn't help but admire such a talent. This man grew from nothing to one of the most powerful men in Westeros. Olyvar agreed and turned to leave before Baelish stopped him. “I'm leaving for the night, if there is an issue; deal with it and inform me in the morning. You're spending the night with Loras tomorrow.” 

It wasn't a question but a demand. Now that Margaery was Queen, he wanted Olyvar in Loras's bed as often as possible. Loras was a man who liked to talk after he had his lustful fill and Olyvar had learned many things that the Tyrells wanted kept quiet. Despite the fact that Baelish's need for the Tyrells was coming to an end, they were not going to go away quietly and would need some persuasion. Although if done correctly, their anger may not be directed at him but someone else. The Lannisters would not be an option given Sansa's desire to see them destroyed. They would be, with one exception but Baelish would ensure their demise as well. 

Olyvar nodded and left the solar. Baelish leaned back and looked over that sack of gold dragons. It was more than most nights brought in. However, there were many men left in the city from Lord Tywin's funeral. Baelish found that big events in the city, such as weddings, funerals and tournaments caused the brothel to bring in more coin. He owned most of the city, even though most didn't realize the depth of his finances, and when something major happened, Baelish was always able to make coin from it. 

He stood from his chair and pushed it into the desk. He draped himself in his cloak and fastened the mockingbird pin onto the light silk. His appearance was impeccable as always. He went back to his desk and picked up the bag of gold dragons. He pulled a few coins out and placed them in his ledger that he would take back to the Red Keep. The rest went under a floorboard that only he knew about. The gold would remain there until he was able to move it to his personal vault or if he decided to move the gold in a more profitable manner. 

Baelish moved to open the solar door and leave the brothel. Whores littered couches and every other nook that could be found. Many were on their knees servicing his patrons. Baelish made a note of every face that he saw because knowledge was power. If he knew what men came to his establishment and knew to whom they laid with, he could easily learn their secrets. If he knew their secrets, then he owed them. Baelish owed this city and this country in more ways than one. Even Sansa didn't realize the depth of his reach. One day he would show her; one day he would show her the world and how to mold it show it never harmed her again. 

The sounds of sex filled his ear. He knew the appeal men felt when before them stood a beautiful woman, for he felt that need every night he looked upon his wife. What he never partook in was lying with a whore. It was a rule of his and one he established long before Sansa came into his life. Sex was a weakness and one that could be used against any man. Lysa had taught him that lesson. Men believed that sex was their weapon and one that could be inflicted upon a woman. However, Baelish knew that while that logic was true, a woman possessed more power when it came to sex than men. The right woman could bring a man to his knees simply by allowing them between hers. Baelish ensured that no woman would have that hold over him again, until Sansa. Sansa was his one weakness and the only one who would be able to bring about his fall; but she wouldn't, he was certain of that. 

He was near the exit of the brothel when he saw it. Ros was speaking to a tall man. It was one of his men that he employed up at the Red Keep. It was one of his spies and one who told him many great things. This man had told him long ago of a certain maester who had delivered a small baby many years ago. He told him of the affair Lord Renly once had with Sir Loras. This man was good a seeing things and Baelish bought his loyalty handsomely. Yet, he was at the brothel and not at the Red Keep. He had learned something. Ros saw him and the look of fear that crossed her face caused Baelish to stop. Something was wrong. 

“My Lord.” Ros whispered, making her way to him. Her eyes flickered around, hoping not to draw attention away from the activities at hand. She came close enough to whisper in his ear but never touched him. She learned that he had no interest in her and she found not reason to touch him. “There has been an incident at the Red Keep, with Lord Greyjoy.” 

“Go on.”

“It appears that he is no longer in the Black Cells. Someone let him out. A man was found unconscious in his place.” Baelish's jaw clenched and tried to hide his anger and fear. It wasn't that someone let Theon out of the cells, but rather the assassin failed to do his job. He knew of the man's reputation and skill at taking life but everyone fails at some point. Tonight just had to be his and it put his wife's life in danger. “The castle is being searched for him but there hasn't been any sight of him.” 

“He wouldn't leave. Not with her so close.” His mind was working. He needed to get to Sansa but knew that he wouldn't be fast enough. He felt helpless but refused to sit around and wait to hear of her fate. Perhaps Theon wouldn't hurt her but he didn't have the best reputation when it came to keeping Starks safe. He brutally murdered Catelyn and Rickon, who says he wouldn't do the same to Sansa. If he lost her and their child, Baelish would burn the entire world to the ground, including himself. “Send word to the guards to get to my chambers immediately. I want you to find Lady and Nymeria and bring them as well. They are not to leave Sansa's and Arya's side until Theon is found. Is that clear?” Ros nodded and hurried off to follow her instructions, despite her misgivings regarding the direwolves. Baelish made his way over to his spy and whispered in his ear. “I want him dead. Find a way to do it.” 

The order wasn't for Theon. No. That pleasure he would do himself it need be despite the fact that he hated getting his hands dirty. This order was for the assassin who failed him. He had a simple job of executing Theon and making it appear as though he killed himself in a fit of madness in the Black Cells but the assassin's cocky demeanor got in the way and allowed his prey to over power him. Baelish planned for everything but the risk of this scheme failing was minimal. He rarely made mistakes but when he did, they usually were catastrophic. Now his wife might pay the price for this man's folly and Baelish refused to allow this man to live. 

When he stepped outside the brothel, it was as though instinct had taken over. His eyes shifted toward the Red Keep and how it perched high up on the rock that it stood. He knew what balcony belonged to him and his family. He could faintly see the flicker of candles and light behind the curtains that hung there. He could only hope that Sansa was alone and that Theon got lost on his way to her. He had that on his side for the young Iron Born didn't know the Red Keep and it was likely that he would stumble across a guard that was searching for him. Yet, deep down in his stomach, Baelish knew he wasn't to be that lucky. 

“What do you need?” Baelish turned to see Olyvar standing behind him. There was a concerned look etched upon his features. The young man had grown found of Sansa, not in a romantic sense, but thought that she was good for Baelish. He brought the worst and best out in her but Sansa brought only the best out in him. Both were damaged beyond repair and in a way, they suited one another. If Baelish lost her, Olyvar didn't know what his boss would do but imagined that it would be catastrophic. 

“Come with me.” Baelish opened the side of his cloak and pulled out a dagger. It was small and something that a woman would most likely carry but it suited him; and it was easier to conceal. He handed the dagger to Olyvar who turned it over in his hand. It was lighter than Olyvar expected and when he touched the tip of the blade, it caused him to bleed. 

“What is this for?”

“You'll know.” Baelish took off down the alleyway and moved toward the carriage that would take them back to the Red Keep. He snapped his fingers and the servants that would carry the box jumped to attention. A full horse and carriage wouldn't be able to be maneuvered though the city streets. He shouted commands, telling them that he needed back quickly. He knew that a fast journey would be painful and normally he was kind to them in order to earn their loyalty but no amount of loyalty would buy his kindness at the moment. They climbed into the carriage and sat down. They felt the carriage lift and Baelish turned to look out the window, feeling helpless. “If he kills her...”

“You'll slit his throat, and then I'll slit yours.” Olyvar was dead serious. He knew what needed to be done when Baelish handed him the dagger even if he didn't want to believe it. He didn't want to kill him but Sansa was murdered, many more people would die because Baelish would no longer have anything to live for. He was never sure what his employer's angle was but knew he was dangerous. Olyvar wasn't a hero but he would do what needed to be done in order to protect himself. If Baelish brought down the city, Olyvar was certain to go with it.

“Good.” 

***  
Up at the Red Keep, Sansa was unpacking the crates that had been shipped from Winterfell. Inside were and assortment of different items that she had used as a child. She smiled as the memories that engulfed her with each item. There were toys, pillows, blankets and decorations. She spent the day making sure everything was in it's proper place. Sansa walked over to the last crate and pulled out the final item, a small delicate blanket. 

“That will be all. You can take it away.” Sansa smiled at two servant girls who brought each crate to her. They watched as she unpacked every items and she told them stories behind them all. She knew they didn't care but her husband paid them well enough to listen to her. Now, she wanted to be alone. She wanted to bask in the memories and the nursery around her. The servants reached down and lifted the crate and left the chambers. 

Sansa sat down in the large plush green chair Baelish had bought in order for her to nurse the child when he or she was born. She smiled down at the blanket that was in her hands. It was slightly worn, after years of use but it still had its beautiful design. It was made by her mother for Bran when she was pregnant with him. Sansa could still remember entering her chamber as a child and watching her sew the blanket and resting her hand upon her growing stomach. 

Each Stark child had a blanket but Bran's seemed to be the only one that remained intact. Robb's had been dragged through the mud when he was seven. Sansa's had been ruined during a fight between herself and Arya. Arya's had been torn to shreds within the first week that Nymeria had been brought to Winterfell and Rickon died with his hand clutching around it. Bran's was the only handmade blanket from their mother that would be passed down to her children. She made her own of course but this one had more meaning than any one she could make herself. 

This blanket had the Tully colors. It was red with blue embroidery but there was no fish. Instead there was a silver direwolf sewed onto the fabric. It was soft and would keep the child warm on cold nights. She knew that the child wouldn't have need for such a warm blanket until they relocated to the Riverlands and winter came again but she wanted the child to know of it. She wanted them to hold it and love it just as she does. 

The child and any other child she had would be a mockingbird. They would excel in mind games and intelligence just like their father. They would love to read and study. They would be ambitious and want to climb high. They would thrive on the game just like he did. She wanted all of that for them but she wanted them to have a small amount of Stark in them. She wanted them to have the passion that run through Stark blood. She wanted them to be brave and impulsive and everything that died with her family. She wanted it all. 

There was a creak of the wooden floorboard that caused Sansa to look up. At first she had thought that it was Baelish having come back from the brothel, for she knew that he was due back soon. She wanted to show him every piece. She knew that he didn't find it as interesting as she did but he would listen to her with a small smirk on his lips. However, the smile on her lips died when she saw who stood at the nursery door. 

His face was gaunt and hallow. His skin was plastered to his bones as though he hadn't had a decent meals in months. His hair was lifeless and stuck to his skin that was covered in sweat. His dark eyes were empty and vast. He had lost his youthful beauty and cocky demeanor. His clothes hung off him in a baggy manner. He was thinner than she could have ever remembered. Long gone was the boy she grew up with in Winterfell and the desperate man who she had banished in what felt like a lifetime ago. This was a tortured man who had lost everything and perhaps he came to collect his debts or vengeance. Sansa didn't know. 

“Hello Theon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, what do you think?  
> It's a cliff hanger but one that you won't have to deal with for long.


	96. Chapter 96

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT. There are two updates this chapter. If you're reading chapter 96 but have not read 95; stop now and go back a chapter. Trust me. This one won't make sense without that one.

Chapter Ninety Six 

“Hello Theon.” It felt like a lifetime. Neither were willing to blink or move. Sansa remained still on the plush green chair she had been sitting on when Theon entered the nursery. It suddenly lost the comfort it had only moments before. She couldn't take her eyes off of him as though he was a wild animal looking at his prey. But Theon didn't look angry just broken; there was nothing left inside him.

Theon had lost everything. He was banished from Winterfell, the only true home he had ever known. He was never welcome in the Iron Islands, no matter that he was their heir. His wife had left him after their son died during childbirth. This was a man who no one wanted and that no one loved; he burned every bridge that he could have made and he didn't realize it until it was too late. Before her stood a man who had no reason to live and that made her fear for herself and her unborn child. 

Sansa stood from the plush chair and walked over toward the crib that was pressed up against the stone wall, right under a window. She wanted her child to feel the breeze and feel the sun everyday; but her reasoning for moving to the crib wasn't because she wanted to see the view that her child would look upon. It was because it put a small amount of distance between Theon and herself. Her gaze did go out to the view from the window but in the corner of her eye, she could still see him and that he hadn't moved. 

Her eyes flickered toward the general direction of the brothel. She suddenly wished that she had gone to the brothel as she had planned but she was excited for the shipment. There were very few things that made her smile light up and anything having to do with her child was one of them. She couldn't handle the thought of not opening those crates as soon as possible. Now, that impatience could cost her the few things she had left. She could only hope that Baelish would make his way toward the Red Keep and return home in time; but she doubted it. 

She gripped the blanket tightly in her hands, her knuckles going white. She brought it to her nose and inhaled deeply, hoping to see if she could smell snow and memories. She felt the softness touch her skin and she ran her thumbs over the fur one last time. She placed the blanket down into the crib next to an arrangement of toys and pillows. It was slightly out of place among the green and silver tones of the rest but Sansa wanted it there. She knew that Baelish wouldn’t mind nor care. If it was something that made her happy, then he would gladly accommodate that wish.

Their children would be raised how both of them wanted them to be raised. She knew that Baelish would have a great influence on that and she didn’t want it any other way. She loved her childhood but felt that the fact that her parents sheltered her, caused her harm. She had been a fool and that cost her dearly. She refused to allow her children to face the same trauma. She wanted so much more for them; she wanted them to have everything she was denied. They would understand how the world truly was and they would be prepared to handle it. She knew that they would commit some unethical crimes in order to strengthen their name but given who their parents were, she couldn’t really be surprised. 

And she didn’t want it any other way. 

Sansa gripped the edge of the crib until her knuckles turned white. Her heart was beating fiercely in her chest. She was terrified. It wasn’t just herself that she was putting at risk, but the child as well. When she killed Joffrey, Margaery and her husband had been right there. If anything had gone wrong, they would have intervened. Even though she was pregnant at that time, she wasn’t as fragile as she was now. Her stomach hadn’t been round with child and the child felt less real. Now she could feel him or her move inside of her and knew when the child was active or asleep. She felt everything now and it made the world of difference. Yet, here she was, alone with a man who murdered her family. She wouldn’t allow him to do it again.

“Tell me why?” Theon’s voice was hoarse as though he hadn’t spoken since he was shipped down to the black cells. There was no one to speak to in those dark cells alone. The only sound was the dripping water and echoes of other prisoners. Many people had gone mad being left alone in such a dark and damp place. It was a fate worse than death but Sansa thought that it was enough for him. She wanted him to suffer the most unimaginable fate that would cause him pain. She wanted him to feel everything she had lost. 

“Don’t you think you’re the one who owes me an explanation?” Theon remained silent. He wasn’t going to give her an answer. He wouldn't speak and it infuriated Sansa. She felt as though she owed him nothing. No matter what she took from him, it was nothing compared to what he ripped away from her. She never killed members of his family. She turned to look at Theon directly and crossed her arms. She glared at him but Theon wouldn't give her anything. He never spoke but simply waited for her answer. “Fine. Why what?” 

“Why did you have me banned?” It all came back to that; her first move. She could remember how her heart raced and how exhilarating it was. It was the first small taste of the game and Sansa couldn't get enough. She regretted it now of course and she knew her husband did too, no matter what he said. She didn't regret much but if she knew the consequences, she would have done something different. Made a different move. “You knew we were there. You knew, how!? Why did you do it? You knew it would ruin me, and Jeyne.” 

“Don't pretend to care for Jeyne, not when you left her pregnant and alone in the Stormlands. You lost the right to care for her.” Theon winced but Sansa didn't stop. “You want to know how? Fine. My husband. He wasn't my lover then, not yet but I knew he would be. After Joffrey, I never thought I would feel alive again, but he gave me life and showed me so much more. He showed me how to get rid of someone I wanted gone. He brought me to you and in return I showed Luwin, knowing his reaction. That’s how. So yes, I knew you were fucking Jeyne in the apothecary and I used it to my advantage.” 

“Why?!”

“Because I needed you gone!” Looking back, it was hard to say why she wanted him gone. He bothered her. How he acted and treated those around him. He flaunted the fact that he was heir to the Iron Islands when everyone knew it meant nothing. She saw how he treated her family. The complete and total disrespect he showed her father after he raised him. “You were a stain that needed to be cleaned out of Winterfell and Petyr showed me how to do it.” 

“My presence wasn't the only stain I left.” That comment caused Sansa to snap. She grabbed the first thing she could find, a glass figure that she had bought as a nursery decoration, and threw it at him. He ducked and the glass splattered against the wall. Sansa grabbed another and then another, refusing to stop the assault until all the glass she could find was shattered. Theon dodged each shattering figure until he was on the ground with his back hit against the wall. Glass littered the ground and there were small cuts on the bottom of his feet. 

“A stain! Thats what you call it.” She was screaming but didn't care. Her anger was taking over. “You brought your Iron Born scum and invaded my home. You killed Northern men who you grew up with. You set fire to Winterfell and all but burnt it to the ground. My husband has spent hundreds of gold dragons in order to fix the damaged you caused. My uncle has sent men from the Riverlands in order to exterminate the filth you brought.” Her chest was heaving and she could feel her heart pound in her chest. “And you took something from me. You took my family. You murdered my baby brother and then you slit my mother's throat as she held her dying son in her arms. Why?” 

“She never wanted me.”

“None of us wanted you.” Sansa spit. That may not have been completely true. When she was younger, she had looked at Theon as a brother because he had always been there. She knew that he wasn't biologically her brother but she treated him as such. She treated him far better than Jon, when she learned from her mother what a bastard was. But Theon was a true born son, even if he wasn't her brother. She treated him as a noble lord should be treated; until they both changed. “We wanted you gone so I made that happen. I guess my reward was you butchering those I love.”

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.” It was as though Theon had broke. Tears were streaming down his face and he curled over into the fetal position. It didn't matter that there were glass shards scattered on the ground, Theon still laid there, allowing the glass to cut his skin. He didn't feel as the glass went deeper, he just curled himself into a ball and rocked as a small child would. “I'm just so sorry.” 

It was then that Sansa realized that Theon was far more broken than she anticipated. She had thought that he would take pride in his kills and that he would relive them over and over again just as Joffrey had. Joffrey would look at her, with his eyes scanning her up and down, remembering what she felt like under that Weirwood. Sybil was the same, taking pride in the moves she made in the game in order to advance herself. But Sansa realized that Theon was different. Rickon's and her mother's death ate away at him. He lived it over and over but not out of joy. They haunted him. She wondered if when he closed his eyes he would see them. She hoped he did.

“You're pathetic.” She sneered at him. Looking at him filthy, curled up like a child made her stomach churn. She had thought that she would enjoy seeing him like this but it was worse. She wanted him in pain and she wanted to see it etched across his face. Yet, this was far worse than that. This was pathetic and Sansa didn't want to pity him. She wanted to hate him. She wanted to hate the man who murdered her family, not give him sympathy. “Get up.”

“Kill me.” Theon sobbed and it made Sansa scowl. She wanted nothing more than his man to die for months but now she realized that death was far too easy of a punishment. Death would be relief. No. She wanted Theon to live with himself. She wanted him to look into the mirror everyday and know what kind of man he was. She wanted him to see Rickon and Catelyn every day. She wanted him to grow old knowing what he had done. She wanted him to hate himself. “Please. Kill me.” 

“No.” Sansa hissed out through her clenched teeth. Theon raised his eyes to her and she could see that darkness there. It wasn't the kind of darkness that lingered in Joffrey's eyes or the kind she could fall into when she gazed into Baelish's; no this was something far worse. This was self-hatred and something she wanted Theon to live with. Theon pushed himself up and crawled toward her, his hands pressed against the wood. Glass found its way into the palm of his hand. Once he reached Sansa, he stood on his knees and looked up at her.

“Kill me. Do it. You want to. You wanted to back at Winterfell. Do it. Kill me.” Sansa said nothing. She simply looked at him with disdain; not giving him anything but frustration. He knew her. Theon had seen that pain and darkness in her all the way back when they were children as she looked down upon others. He saw it in her as she smirked at him over Luwin's shoulder. He knew her and he knew she could do it. She could end him if she wanted. When she said nothing, he grew angry. He balled his fist and pounded on the ground. “Kill me!” 

Sansa didn't flinch. She just looked at him; hatred filling her up inside. It was the same look she had given him the day after he married Jeyne. His eyes flickered to her wrist for a brief moment, remembering how it felt in his hands as he squeezed it. He thought it would break but it didn't and in the back of his mind he wondered if there was anything that would break her. She leaned down and with that same hand that he injured, she reached to take his chin in her hand, her nails digging into his skin. She lifted his head so he could look her directly in the eye. 

“No.” 

Theon flew into a rage, angry at her rejection. He shot up and grabbed her by the shoulders. The glass that was imbedded into his hands, dug into the skin of her shoulder. It cut her deeply and she could feel blood spilling down her arms. He pushed her backwards and her back hit the stone wall. Her head banged off the wall and for a moment she felt dizzy. Her eyes clouded but Theon came back into focus again. Her hands gripped at his dirty tunic as she attempted to bang her hands against him. She tried to push him off but he was far stronger than her. He pulled her away before slamming back against the wall. He was spitting words at her and she could feel the spray of his saliva against her face.

“Kill me!” Over and over again he slammed her against the wall; the side of her face beating against the wall. No matter how hard she tried fight him off he just overpowered her. In the back of her mind she couldn't help but flash to back to the Godswood and Joffrey holding her down. Panic was overtaking her but the dizziness wasn't helping her; she needed to protect her child. “Kill me!” 

Suddenly Theon stopped and Sansa's vision was sliding in and out of focus. Her knees buckled and her back slid down the wall until she was in a sitting position. Her hand went to her head because of the pounding that Theon had caused while the other caressed her growing stomach; feeling the child kick inside of her. She felt a moment of relief but it didn't last long. On her forehead could feel a wet, sticky substance and she knew it was blood. At first she thought it was hers but quickly realized that it wasn't coming from her head. Instead, her hand was drenched. She wasn't sure where it was coming from until she looked up.

Theon stood in front of her with wide eyes, completely shocked. Words had failed him and Sansa could see why. He was holding his stomach and she could see the blood leaking from it. Black bile started to drip from his mouth and get all over the nursery floor. Theon dropped to his knees, not being able to stand any longer. He said nothing but there was a look of complete bewilderment on his face, as though he didn't really want to die.

Over his shoulder, another figure came into focus. At first Sansa had thought that it was Baelish but the figure was far too small. Her vision was still blurry and her head pounded but after a moment, Sansa could see that it was her sister; with Needle in her hand. It was Arya who made Theon fall, stabbing him in the stomach. Sansa didn't even hear her enter, having been too consumed with weak attempts to fight Theon off of her. Arya didn't speak and she seemed completely focused on the dying man. Arya lifted her one foot and nudged Theon's shoulder, knocking him to the ground. 

“Cold. So cold.” Theon whimpered out, rolling over. He coughed roughly, spilling black bile onto the ground. Nausea overtook her and Sansa turned her head, vomiting onto the ground. She wasn't certain if it was the sight of the dying man, sickness from being with child or the pounding in her head. All she knew was that she felt very sick and needed to empty her stomach. She wiped her mouth with the back of her had and attempted to focus on the scene before her. 

Arya never looked at her. Not once. She was so focused on Theon to pay her sister any mind. It was as almost as though there was nothing to Arya; nothing inside of her. She could hardly make out her features but she saw that she wore no expression. There was no rage, no envy; nothing. It was as though she was listening to something quiet boring; but her eyes never left him. 

Theon stopped moving but he was still breathing. He coughed and more black bile came out of his mouth, causing Sansa's stomach to turn again. He rolled on his back, clutching his stomach as he went. Arya crossed her legs and sat down beside him as though he was something interesting to watch. She didn't spare her sister one glance and if it were any other circumstances, Sansa might have been offended; but her mind was clouded and she could grasp the fact that Theon was dying. It was ending and Sansa didn't know how to wrap her mind around it. 

Everything was coming to an end for a moment. She knew that whatever her husband had planned would soon unfold and that the world would change. Now, as she looked at the fuzzy image of the dying man in her child's nursery, she realized that her goals were met. Joffrey, who had taken her innocents and ruined her, was dead by her own hands. Sybil, the woman who ordered the death of her brother and subsequently her father, was dead on her husband's orders; and now Theon, the man who murdered her mother and baby brother was inches away from death. It all was coming to a close....

But what of Bran? Sansa thought to herself. What of him? He was the key to everything and his death started it all. If Bran had lived, Ned would have taken the position as Hand of the King and everything would have been different. Sansa's life would have been different. She couldn't think about how everything would change. The only thing that she realized that while Theon would end, would everything really end? No. Jaime and Cersei would still be alive; Bran's murder would be left unpunished. She couldn't help but feel angry. 

Suddenly there was a slight cough and she knew. Theon was dead. He would never come back to haunt her or harm her. He was gone but she felt that it wasn't enough. When he had begged for his death, she wanted him to live for the sole purpose of feeling that pain and suffering. Now, he had that moment of peace that was death. She didn't know for certain what came after life but she remembered what it was like to be on the brink of death. She knew that moment when nothing mattered but the darkness that she was chasing. Theon had that now and she could only hope that what came after that peaceful second was the most unimaginable pain for him. 

Sansa doubted it worked that way. 

“Sansa, are you okay?” Arya stood from her seat and walked over to her sister. She kneeled down in front of her and saw that Sansa had trouble focusing on anything. Her eyes were rolling back and forth as she groaned from the sharp pain in her head. She attempted to look at Arya but she was nothing more than a blurry mess. She reached out to touch her but her aim was slightly off. When she missed touching her sister, Arya took her hand in hers. “Look at me.” 

“Sansa!” There was a loud pounding and Sansa couldn't be sure if it was in her head or if it came from somewhere in the chamber. Arya's head snapped around but never let go of her hand; Sansa thought if she let go then everything would fade away. In the back of her mind, Sansa found this slightly ironic. Arya had found her in the Godswood and held onto her, keeping her from death and while Sansa wasn't certain if she was dying, she didn't want Arya to let go. “Sansa!” 

“In here! She is in here!” Two figures appeared in the doorway and she couldn't make out who they were at first. It wasn't until the scent of mint engulfed her that she realized who was rushing towards her. Arya dropped her sister's hand but she wasn't alone long. Sansa felt herself being scooped up into the familiar arms of her husband. “Is she going to be okay?” 

“Olyvar, send for Maester Reedman! Now!” Sansa wrapped her arms around Baelish's neck and buried her face into his neck. “No. Sansa, look at me.” He hand gripped her jaw lightly and moved her face in order to look at her. “Open your eyes. Please. Stay with me.” She didn't realize that she had closed them and it was the panic that caused her to open her eyes. She could see his deep green eyes peering down at her but suddenly it seemed as though they were multiplying. She reached out to touch his face and gave a small laugh as she did. “What is it Sweetling?”

“Petyr.” She whispered as she continued to attempt to touch his face. “When did you become two?” 

“What?”

Sansa gave another giggle. She felt safe there, in his arms. 

Safe. 

It was the last word she thought of as she blacked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah......I traded one cliffhanger for another...
> 
> This is an important chapter and not just because Theon is finally dead but we start seeing that psychotic side of Arya that I just love. In many ways it is the beginning of her destiny..... 
> 
> Hate me? Love me?


	97. Chapter 97

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm back with another chapter! I do have a long A/N at the bottom of the chapter that I'm hoping you will take a moment to read.

Chapter Ninety Seven

He couldn't focus. All he could see was his wife lying on the bed as Maester Reedman examined her for the third time. He assured Baelish that his wife and child would be fine. Sansa had been drifting in and out of consciousness but she was still delirious each time she awoke. Reedman assured him that she was fine, as was the child but there was that moment when she first passed out in his arms that he thought he had lost her. He had thought he would make Olyvar be good on his promise of ending him...and then she breathed.

Hearing Sansa's breathe flooded Baelish with a relief he never thought possible. He held her body close to him, hugging and pulling her tightly against his chest. He released her slowly but she never opened her eyes; it was as though she was asleep but he knew that it was something worse than that. She was alive but he had heard of people going into a deep sleep, never to wake again. Baelish would stay by her side but he didn’t know how he would be able to watch her every day, asleep and never hear her laugh again. The mere thought of never seeing her smile, her holding their child or simply just having her in his arms again was maddening. The realization that he would never be able to take her to bed or have those intimate moments with her came crashing down.

Baelish wasn’t a man who cried but in that moment, when he thought he might lose her, he almost shed a tear. 

He looked over to Arya who he could see was panicking. She had been so focused on Theon, whose body still lay motionless on the ground, that paying attention to the fact that her sister was injured flew out the window. Guilt coursed through her and Baelish didn’t have the time or patience to deal with her grief. He snapped at her, telling her to assist him getting Sansa to the bed and making her comfortable. Arya jumped to action quickly and the two of them began lifting the pregnant woman to the bed in the other chamber. Normally Baelish was able to lift her on his own, but the fact that she was unconscious and pregnant, made her seem heavier than normal; not that he would ever say that to her. 

Once she was in the bed, Baelish sat by her side and it felt like an eternity before Olyvar returned with the Maester, who went directly to work. Baelish watched the Maester work over his wife with anxious eyes; he didn’t notice Olyvar leaving the chambers. It was well that he did because the King and Queen quickly made an appearance, escorted by several guards. They both looked anxious, having heard the news of Theon’s escape and made their way to Baelish’s and Sansa’s chambers when they learned that Theon had made his way there. Tommen looked visibly distraught, something Baelish was pleased with; he wanted him to feel the guilt for not executing Theon when he had the opportunity. 

Now, Arya sat in the corner, cleaning the blood off her hands while Margaery, who had tears silently falling down her cheeks, comforted the girl who appeared to be in a daze. Tommen stayed by Baelish whose eyes never left his wife. The King asked questions such as, what happened, where he was and what he saw when he came in. Baelish answered everything but gave no explanation for he didn’t have the time or will to appease the boy King. His voice drowned out as he watched the Maester touch her growing stomach again with a small smile. He removed his hand and strolled over to both Baelish and Tommen stating that the child was kicking which was a positive sign. The damage was concentrated to her upper body, including the bruise and gash on the side of her head. The Maester believes that is what caused Sansa to black out. None of this made him feel better; not until he heard Sansa’s voice.

“Petyr.” It came out as a groan and Baelish was by her side in an instant with the Maester on his heels. Baelish gripped her hand while she was being checked over. He didn’t take his eyes off of his wife, whose free hand had gone to her temples, but he could see the Maester’s relieved face as he examined her. Baelish realized that he had been lied to. Under normal circumstances, he could stop a lie but his mind had been so clouded with fear that it slipped beyond his notice. The Maester was worried that his wife might never wake but refused to tell the concerned husband such things. Baelish didn’t know if he should be grateful or angry. “My head hurts.”

“I believe it will for a time.” Baelish replied with a light chuckle. He was so relieved that she was speaking that all he could do was to give a small laugh in order to express his happiness. He leaned down and kissed her forehead, like he had done several times since she had been lying motionless on the bed. The Maester poked and prodded her, causing her to hiss greatly. Baelish ran his fingers through her hair lightly. “You went through quite the ordeal.”

Sansa’s eyes grew wide and she moved to sit up quickly. The Maester put a hand on her shoulder pushing her back down, insisting that she didn’t move. Baelish gripped her hand trying to sooth the panic look she was throwing at him. Arya moved from the chair she had been reclining in, cleaning the blood off of herself. With cloth in hand, she sat down on the edge of the bed throwing worried expressions to her sister. Both the King and Queen stood at the edge of the bed, gazing down at her. Sansa’s breathing increased and her chest heaved.  
“Theon!” Baelish tried to sooth her but there were no words that she could hear above her panic. It was as though everything that had happened hours before was flashing before her eyes. Her hand flew down to her stomach as though making sure to see if the child was still there. She felt the baby kick but it did nothing to stop her fears. “The baby! Is the baby okay?” 

“The child is fine Lady Baelish but you need to relax. Getting upset will only cause more issues.” The Maester stated and Sansa tried to calm herself but she was far too upset to do it properly. She could still feel her heart beating quickly. Her eyes shifted to her husband, pleading with him to tell her what her memory was lacking. She remembered Theon crawling on the ground and massive amounts of blood but nothing after that. Just blackness.

“Theon is dead Sweetling. Arya killed him.” Sansa's eyes snapped toward her sister and she could see the internal conflict that was waging inside of her. Sansa had that same feeling when she had taken Joffrey's life. She was fighting the idea that she was, indeed, a murderer while still rejoicing in the man's death. Theon was dead by Arya's hand. While Sansa wanted Theon to live with his guilt, the idea that it was Arya who had taken his life seemed right. Sansa had Joffrey and now, Arya had Theon. 

“Arya?” 

“He was hurting you. I grabbed Needle. I didn't know what else to do. I couldn't lose you.” There was more to it; she could see it in Arya's eyes. Sansa suddenly remembered a hazy vision of Arya sitting beside Theon as he died. It wasn't someone comforting a man on his death bed, giving him well wishes and goodbyes but instead one of pleasure as she saw his life leave his eyes. Arya shifted slightly and looked at Tommen with a slight twinge of fear linger in her eyes. “What is going to happen to me?”

The implications of her rash action were suddenly hitting her. This wasn’t the skilled plotting of murder Sansa and Baelish were accustomed to. This was an impulsive decision that led to bloodshed. It was reckless and she had been caught red handed. Sansa realized that it wasn’t necessarily guilt Arya was feeling but fear of prosecution for her actions. She was a murder and the King saw the bloodied body and the blood smeared on her hands. He could have her executed if he found it a fitting punishment. Suddenly, Sansa could feel her heart pounded at the thought of losing Arya. She didn’t know how she would be able handle that loss after losing the rest of her family. She needed Arya. 

“Nothing.” Tommen spoke gently and the breath Sansa was holding let out. Arya’s shoulder’s relaxed and it was clear how tense she had been. Tommen reached over to the girl, who in size seemed so much younger than Tommen but in reality, was around the same age. It was the fact that Tommen was King that gave him that false appearance of age. He squeezed her shoulder, hoping to be comforting. “You were protecting your sister. He would have killed her if you didn’t step in. I can’t punish you for that.” 

“Thank you, Your Grace.” It came out as a croak and it was clear that Arya was fighting back tears. Tommen smiled at her but it didn’t reach his eyes. Guilt was etched on his face. Sansa knew what he was thinking; he was thinking about what he should have done. He should have sentenced Theon when he had the chance. If he had done his duty as King, then Sansa would never have suffered this fate and Arya wouldn’t have blood on her hands. Baelish would never forgive him for that. 

“Rest. You all need it. I’ll have servants sent up to clean out the nursery. By the time Lady Baelish is well again, the nursery will be ready for your child.” He gave Arya one last pat on the shoulder and squeezed Sansa’s ankle gently. He smiled before turning asking if his wife would join him. She smiled and nodded at him before turning to her friend.

“I’ll let you rest today but I’ll visit tomorrow to see how you are faring.” With that Margaery and Tommen left the chamber and they could hear the distinct sound of the King and Queen being escorted by guards as they left. The Maester looked over Sansa again just to verify what that she was indeed fine. He seemed to be far more pleased with her state than he had been before she had woken up. His usually cheerful exterior had become more exuberant with his wide smile lighting up his features.

“It appears that the King has declared that you need to rest and I must concur with that order. Rest. Take the next couple of days easy. Stay home. That also means no strenuous activities.” He threw a pointed look at Baelish. It was no secret that Baelish and Sansa couldn’t keep their hands off of each other. While they may play the part of a “respectable” married couple for the court, when they are in the brothel it was a different matter entirely. The Maester knew Baelish well enough to know that he adored his wife and that he had her often. However in her present condition, he did not think that wise. Sansa had expected her husband to be giving the Maester a smirk or some kind of cocky look but instead, he barely looked at the younger man. He wouldn’t take his eyes off of Sansa. He seemed lost and concerned; something the Maester noticed. “She’ll be fine Lord Baelish. If you stay with her, especially when she sleeps, and follow my instructions, everything will be well.”

“Thank you.” Baelish gave a gruff but truthful reply. Baelish was not a man who thanked others for anything. When he did, it was sincere. The Maester nodded and slowly let himself out. He closed the door lightly behind him, leaving Sansa alone with her husband and sister. Sansa reached out and took her husband’s hand, giving him a comforting squeeze. She saw his lips turn upward slightly but not into a smile. He leaned in again, kissing her forehead and Sansa found comfort in his lips.

“Are you alright Arya?” Sansa asked. Arya was far too quiet. Her sister was one who always made noise and fought when need be. Arya was a fighter but as she sat on that bed, Sansa could see that something inside of her seemed broken; a feeling Sansa was all too familiar with. Both had suffered greatly but Arya always had a liveliness about her that Sansa envied and admired; she didn't want her sister to loose that. She feared that Theon's death might just be enough to break her. 

“I'm fine.” She replied, playing with the rag in her hand. She adverted her eyes, no longer being able to look at her sister. There was an empty void inside her now and she simply didn't know how to fill it. It ached and pulled at her. Yet, despite the darkness that was churning inside, there was a small voice of relief; glad that Theon was dead and wouldn't change how his end was accomplished. That small voice only made the hole grow deeper and darker. Suddenly, Arya felt the need to get clean. “I think I'll have a bath. Wash the blood away.” 

“I'm sure if you ask Ros, she'll draw you one.” Sansa's voice croaked slightly and she could hear Baelish's voice hiccup at the sound. At any sound of distress, he was going to hover and Sansa knew that it would drive her spare. Arya nodded and stood from the bed. She reached out to touch her sister but pulled back. The last person she touched had died and suddenly, Arya never wanted to touch another person again. With that, she turned and left. Sansa wanted to help her sister but knew that she needed this time alone. Talking and coping could be done at a later time. 

Sansa turned her head to look at her husband, whose eyes were still peering at her. There was no mischief or scheme lingering there and Sansa missed that. She adored that part of him but what was in his eyes now was nothing more fear. She didn't know Baelish to be scared of anything. He always seemed so fearless and willing to do anything no matter what the risk was; just as long as the reward was good enough. Yet, that drive was no longer staring back at her. Baelish closed his eyes and leaned up to kiss the crown of her head again.

“Don't you ever do that to me again.” There was venom in his voice that he never used with her. Never. Baelish, when it came to his wife, wasn't a cruel man. They had their fair share of fights and discords but never once did he take that tone with her. He had never been that angry with her. It wasn't the first time she had been near death but it was the first time that Baelish faced the reality of nearly loosing her. He vowed that he would never go through that again. “Arya told us everything. She told us that you antagonized him.”

“Arya heard me?” 

“She heard enough to go and grab her sword and end the bastard, which is more than I can say for you.” The words came out like a hiss; through clenched teeth and a tightened jaw. It almost wanted Sansa to shrink away from him but she didn't have the energy and she knew that he would never harm her, no matter how angry he was. “You taunted him? What in the name of the Seven were you thinking? He could have killed you! He could have killed the baby!”

“He was begging me to kill him. The grief was eating away at him. I wanted him to live with that. I wanted him to suffer. Death was too easy.” Sansa replied. At the time it seemed like the perfect solution; let Theon rot in a dark, black cell. However, there was a feeling of relief that he was dead. Finally, most of her enemies had perished; what was she to do now? She wanted nothing more than to raise her child in peace but she knew better. The game still must be played. “He didn't deserve death.”

“So you just put yourself at risk?! You allowed yourself to be beaten with the chance of losing this.” Baelish reached down and spread his hand across her swollen stomach. Suddenly, Sansa felt very angry. She would never put their child at risk but the moment Theon stepped into that nursery, she had no choice. She did what she had to do in order to protect their child; which meant not fighting back. She knew Theon, if she fought him, the damage would have been far worse. 

“Don't you dare accuse me of putting our child at risk. I didn't ask Theon to come. I didn't invite him! He begged me to kill him. Let’s say I did! Lets say I attempted to kill him and he fought back! What would have happened then?” Baelish's lips thinned and he seemed displeased. She had a point but he would never say that out loud. Sansa reached out and took one of his hands in hers. She brought his hand to her lips and kissed the back of it. “I was in a sticky situation with no way out. No matter what decision I made, Theon was still a threat but please know that I would have done everything I could to protect this child.” 

“I know. I know.” He gripped her hand tightly and pressed his lips to the back of it. Soon Sansa broke her hand away and touched the side of his face. She stroked his cheekbones. He closed his eyes; just enjoying her touch. “For a moment there, I thought I had lost you. Everything I needed suddenly came crashing down. When we heard of Theon's escape, I knew there was a chance I would never see you again; that I would never hold my son or daughter in my arms. I made Olyvar promise to end me if-”

“Don't. Don't you dare say it.”

“Sweetling..”

“No. If I'm not allowed to take any types of risks that might cause me harm you are not allow to talk about killing yourself. Do you understand me?” Her voice was still hoarse and broken but the firmness was still evident. The fierceness in her eyes backed her words. She never wanted to hear him talk of such things again. Baelish, looking deeply at his wife, nodded in agreement. “Good.” She paused for a breif second. “Would you have done it? Would you have ended everything? Given up the game?” 

“The game is nothing without you.” The sincerity she heard in his voice was starling. His eyes poured into her and this was the look of a drowning man. She suddenly realized how much her loss would have devastated him. They never spoke of their emotions, always allowing their actions to speak louder than words, but in this moment Sansa realized how vulnerable her husband was. She had never seen him like this before, even when Joffrey had attacked her after Lancel was found dead. She could feel her body freeze up and her insides start to panic. Emotions. That is what he was feeling and it scared Sansa. “Sansa I-“

“Don’t. Don’t say it. Please. Not here. Not like this.” The moment was gone. Baelish wasn’t someone who wore his heart on his sleeve and the fact that he was willing to spill his deepest darkest emotions to her scared her. She knew how she felt even though she buried it as far down as she could go and she also knew how he felt; his actions showed her that every time he did something for her. She felt that there was no need to say the words aloud. “I know Petyr. I know. Just like you do too.” 

“I know Sweetling.” He closed his eyes again before leaning in and kissing the top of her head. It was as though the thought of letting her go could possibly cause her to vanish. She had never seen him so shaken or afraid. It was unnerving to her. She preferred her husband being in complete control over himself and knowing what move to make next. This lost man who sat beside her was not one she was used to. She wanted her husband back; even his cocky and devious attitude. “Forgive me.” 

“I would forgive you for anything. You know that.” He smirked at her but it didn't have the same leer. There was still sorrow there and she wanted to erase that. “Come lay with me.” Baelish nodded and stood. She watched as he kicked off his shoes and loosened his coat. He took the mockingbird pin off and sat it on the bedside table. He walked around the bed and laid down beside her. He opened his arms and she moved so he was able to hold her. He kissed the top of her head and she sighed in contentment. “This normally is the prelude to something much better.”

“Not tonight Sansa.” Baelish chuckled and she narrowed her eyes at him. She wasn't serious. Her body hurt too much, from both Theon's attack and the rapid movements of the child, to even consider allowing her husband to ravish her. However, she could not remember a time when she laid on their bed with her husband's arms around her that it didn't end up in sex. That was just how their relationship worked.

“Are you, peddler of flesh and desire, rejecting your willing wife?” She knew that if she was able and in better physical condition, her husband would have pounced onto her, bedded her into the mattress. However she knew that he would fuss over her until she gave birth. Despite that, she couldn't help but try and bring his smirk back to his lips. “You could do all the work while I just lay here, enjoying the pleasure you invoke.” 

“Behave.” 

“I might have to, but you don't.” 

“Sansa.” His voice held a warning in it. He was tense and Sansa felt bad for teasing him. He was such a physical person when it came to affection that being a tease was not something he appreciated. She stuck her lip out slightly to show that she was pouting. Truth was, she wasn't in the mood for her head was still pounding and her body was sore. “You heard what Maester Reedman said, you need rest.”

“Don't you want me?” 

“Sansa, I relieved that you're alive. If that means that I can't touch you for a while, then I'll keep my hands to myself.” It was as sweet as her husband would ever get. She gave him a sheepish smile and leaned up to kiss his cheek. She rested her head against his chest and listened to his heart thump. It was a soothing sound and Sansa could feel herself drifting off to sleep. The Maester told Baelish to watch her while she slept and she knew it was in case she didn't wake up, but Sansa knew that she would wake up in the tight embrace of her husband.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So okay, I feel like I need to explain why there is such a giant gap between chapters. Life. While in beginning my beta and I have been able to push out chapters almost weekly, at the moment, with how life has been for the both of us, it is difficult. I am a few chapters ahead of her but I just haven't been able to write as much as I used to. I'm hoping things begin to slow down and that I can relax and write. I know that my bet also has things going on that take precedence over Boden unfortunately. 
> 
> I just hope that you all understand and are patience with the both of us. 
> 
> For those of you who have asked how my mom and sister are doing; the answer is much better. My mom is home and we had visiting nurses for several weeks but she was just discharged from that today. They took her off the oxygen and she is slowly getting back to normal. Of course Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years all kind of sucked because most of it was spent in and out of the hospital but things are looking up. 
> 
> My sister is also doing better. She was told several years ago that she could no longer carrying children to term. While upset, she said that her son and step-children were enough. Well, she accidentally got pregnant but miscarried; she had some massive bleeding which was why she was in the hospital. Her husband stayed with her while I was with our mom. She is home and better as well. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope things begin to look up and that I can focus on writing more.


	98. Chapter 98

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, sorry for the long wait. 
> 
> This chapter has not been edited by a beta so forewarning you.
> 
> Please read the A/N at the bottom.

Chapter Ninety-Eight 

Sansa was tired and aching. That was the only way she could describe how she felt. The pregnancy didn't help matters; the child was moving constantly and kicking her insides. Recovering from her ordeal had been awful for she found it was difficult to stay awake at times. When she awoke, Baelish would always be by her side. He had put Ros in charge of the brothel and he had missed two small council meetings; yet he somehow still knew everything that was discussed. Sansa had scolded him for missing those meetings but he brushed her worries aside. He claimed that the game was not as important as her.

A few days after the incident, Sansa felt well enough to venture outside of her chambers. When she had risen from her bed, she was terrified to see the state of the nursery. She had braced herself for the worst possible outcome but she was pleasantly surprised. Tommen had kept his word and had the nursery cleaned up and back to its pristine condition. Sansa was certain that Baelish had supervised the entire process, making sure that none of the items from Winterfell were damaged because he knew how much they meant to Sansa.

It wasn't long before she received a summons from the Queen. Margaery had visited Sansa often to ensure that she was recovering and filled her in on the court gossip. Sansa didn't really care about what was going on in court but it was nice to have the company outside of her husband. She adored Baelish but he was hoovering; it was driving her mad. Arya was becoming withdrawn. At first she didn't even go back to training but then about two days after Theon's death, it was as though she had thrown herself back in. Sansa believed that she needed time to accept what she had done. She had murdered a man. No matter how much she hated him, it takes a toll on the mind and soul. Sansa knew that feeling first hand. Eventually she forced Baelish to attend to business and to leave her alone. Not long after he had left the chamber, Sansa received the summons.

She sent a note to Baelish and before he was able to come and demand her to stay, Sansa gathered Lady and headed toward the Queen's chambers. There was no need for the direwolf but while Sansa was eager to leave the chambers she had just spent days inside, she didn't want to do so alone. The fear of traveling alone was a pointless fear she knew but one that she couldn't shake. With all of her courage, Sansa passed by members of the court that lingered in the halls and ignored their pitying looks. It always amazed her how fleeting the minds of the court could be. One moment she was condemned in their eyes and then she becomes the victim again. The truth of her reputation seems to be only relevant when they want her to be guilty. When she is harmed, suddenly she is the pure daughter of the North again.

It was rather infuriating. The farther along she got in her pregnancy, the more she wanted Harrenhal to be done. It was nearly completed and they could move in if they desired but Baelish was holding back. Soon he would tell her why. Soon they would be free to leave and raise their child far away from the politics of court. Yet, he would never tell her why they had to wait. His silence was also infuriating. Whatever it was, it had to do with his master scheme. Much like Arya, she was getting annoyed with court and the game. She didn't feed off of it like Baelish did. He would never get it up completely and she knew that; she would never ask him to but Sansa wanted some kind of peace. Joffrey had always been her villain and he was dead. 

Yet here she was, still sore and aching, making her way toward the Queen's chambers. She couldn't ignore a summons. She had to play her part and her part was the loyal wife of Lord Baelish and the best friend to the Queen. She would smile and nod at whatever Margaery had to say in order to keep her in line. Much like Tommen was a key player, so was Margaery. Margaery was there to control the King. Without the Queen, they can't control the King. Once she reached the chamber she was looking for, Sansa raised her hand and knocked on the wooden door. A young girl answer the door, one of Margaery’s handmaidens, and allowed Lady and herself to pass. Sansa looked around the room and saw that only three handmaidens were in attendance. Margaery normally had four.

One handmaiden was missing.

“Leave us.” Margaery requested in a light tone but Sansa could sense the falseness in it. She looked around to the girls and saw how tense and anxious they were. It was as though they had just been thoroughly interrogated and Sansa assumed that the missing handmaiden was the culprit. Sansa had a feeling she knew what the discord was about but she didn’t want to say a single thing until Margaery brought it up. The handmaidens quickly scurried out but stopped when Margaery addressed them again. “And speak of this to no one, or I will be very displeased.” They nodded and shut the door behind them.

“Are you alright your grace?” Margaery ignored her. She just sat at her vanity and continued to stare at herself. Her hands were placed on the edge of the vanity and her nails were digging into the wood. Sansa could see her knuckles turn white and if she dug any harder, her fingers would start to bleed. Her shoulders were tense and ridged, her spine completely straight. Sansa had never seen Margaery so angry before.

“How are you feeling?” It was obvious that she was trying to keep the bite out of her voice but in lingered anyway. Sansa suddenly began to become fearful. Baelish and Sansa had been manipulating Margaery since their arrival in King’s Landing, putting her on the throne, but it didn’t mean Margaery wasn’t a danger. If the Queen ever decided to turn against them, the game suddenly became far more difficult.

“Much better your grace.”

“And the child?”

“The child is well. Growing still.” Sansa replied, placing her hand on her growing bulge. Maester Reedman assured that she would deliver in approximately two moon turns. She had thought that she would be due sooner than that and was dismayed when she was told she would have to wait at least another two months because it had felt as though she had been pregnant for far longer than that. Perhaps it was because so much has happened in the last eight months that it just seems like she should have given birth already. If truth be told, the last two years, since Baelish entered her life, have been wild. “Maester Reedman states that he thinks that I should deliver within the next two months.”

“Good.” She said nothing for a moment. The seconds ticked by and Sansa wondered what was going through the Queen’s mind. Margaery was smart and Sansa knew that. It was a consideration when they planted seeds in her mind. For a brief second, she was worried that her friend had figured out her game. It wasn’t until Margaery quickly raised her hand and pushed the contents of the vanity to the floor. Glass bottles and compacts crashed to the floor, spreading liquids, powders and glass across the wooden floor. “That hateful bitch!”

“You’re Grace-“

“Do you know what she did?” Margaery was hysterical. She was pacing across the room and Sansa could hear the crunch of glass beneath the Queen’s shoe. The fact that a shard of glass could poke through her shoe and cut her foot, Margaery did not seem to care. She continued to walk across the broken glass at an angry pace. Her arms were visibly shaking and Sansa had never seen Margaery this angry. In fact, Sansa didn’t believe that she was capable of such anger. Annoyance of course but not anger.

“Who?”

“Cersei! That unfeeling, cold, selfish bitch!” Margaery grunted out in frustration and anger. She wasn't a violent person but Sansa was sure if Cersei was standing in front of her now, she would beat the woman until she was dead. Sansa remembered how hesitant Margaery was to take Joffrey's life but now the idea of murder didn't seem to bother her any longer. Her hatred for the former queen overshadowed any type of doubt or hesitation she might have had. “I want her gone.”

“Margaery, I'm sure whatever she has done is awful but you don't actually mean you want her dead?” Sansa's mind was working in overdrive. While it wasn't necessary for Cersei to be around, for she had fallen from power after her husband's death, it would not do any good for more scandal to surround them. It seemed that since they arrived in King's Landing, there had been nothing but constant scandal in their lives. Baelish pressed that it was time to slow things down because something big was coming. Something huge and they needed the quite before the storm, a plan Margaery didn't seem to know about. “Tommen wouldn't like it.”

“What Tommen doesn't know won't hurt him.” Margaery was planning on going outside of Tommen to get rid of his mother. This was dangerous. She wasn’t thinking clearly and it could cause her to make mistakes. If she made a mistake, Tommen could have her executed for killing the Queen Mother. While Tommen loved his wife, Sansa wasn’t sure if that love would survive such a betrayal. “I won’t tell him. He won’t have to know. I won’t even tell him what she did. I can’t; not if I want this to go correctly.”

“What has she done?” Margaery turned to Sansa and her eyes flashed. Sansa had never seen such anger in them before. Margaery searched her friend, wanting to know if she was being fooled. The Queen knew that Baelish was a very knowledgeable man and was only second to Varys in the knowing of King's Landing and Westeros as a whole. It wouldn't be a stretch for him to tell such secrets to his wife. Margaery knew what a man was like when he was satisfied; their lips become looser and she was certain that Baelish was no different. However, searching Sansa's face gave no results. She only saw curiosity and concern. Margaery didn't realize how good of an actress Sansa had become. It came after years of practice with hiding her rape from her family.

“I couldn't get pregnant. I tried, over and over again to get pregnant with Tommen's child. Not that he minded or noticed of course.” Sansa couldn't help but raise her eyebrow at the bitter tone in her voice. She wondered how often Margaery allowed her husband into her bed. The two woman have discussed what their husbands were like in bed and she knew that Margaery enjoyed having Tommen between her legs, especially since she could train him to her liking. Neither Tommen nor Joffrey were the first men Margaery had slept with. “I was allowing him to have me so often that I was getting exhausted. I had to be pregnant by now but no. Month after month my cycle comes. At first I didn't think much on it. I figured it would happen but it didn't. Six months is how long I have been married and not even a hint of a child. Tommen needs an heir. I need to give him an heir and I started to wonder if I was barren. I started even making plans on how to fake a pregnancy.”

This was beyond concern and resentment. Margaery knew her duty and she needed to give Tommen a son in order to ensure her position; something Baelish didn't want. He didn't want Tommen to have an heir and Sansa had no idea why. She wondered if Tommen and Margaery were going to be one the throne long and Baelish didn’t want another to have a claim to the throne. It was all theory of course because her husband was being rather tight lipped about it. She wouldn’t push him because it was one of the very few things they fought about. Sansa didn’t like it when he kept things from her and he didn’t like it when she pushed him for information he couldn’t give her. So neither spoke of it and they didn’t argue unless they reached a boiling point that one of them had to say something; most often it was Sansa who started the arguments. 

“I didn’t get pregnant right away. It took a couple of months, I’m sure with time-“

“She was feeding me moon tea!” 

“What? How?” 

“My handmaiden was working for her!” Margaery screeched out, confirming Sansa’s suspicions about what her displeasure was in regards to. It was clear that the Queen only blamed Cersei and was ignorant to the fact that it was Baelish who planted the seed in Cersei’s mind. Sansa could only hope that Cersei didn’t realize where she got the idea from. It wouldn’t end well for either of them. “Cersei had her feeding it to me every day in my morning tea. I had no idea.” 

“How could you not have known? You drank it enough times when you were engaged to Joffrey. You know what it tasted like?” As did Sansa. She would never forget the bitter taste of the liquid when it touched her tongue all those years ago. She remembered not knowing what it was at first when Arya had brought the tea to her. She didn’t even consider the fact that she might be carrying the Prince’s bastard child within her. When she nearly spit the foul drink out, Arya insisted that she drink the entire thing, explaining what it was. She nearly gaged and chocked on the tea but she forced it down her throat. A few moments of discomfort is better than bringing that monster’s child into the world. 

“She masked the taste. I asked her the same thing when I had her confessing to her sins. Apparently this is what she is known for. She is talented for it. Cersei had used her every time Robert got her with child.” It startled Sansa to hear that but more so that Margaery didn’t even seem fazed by the idea. It was unclear to Sansa if Margaery knew what the true birth of her husband was but if she just learned it, it seemed as though it was not something that bothered her. There were far bigger issues at plan than an old tale of incest. “It tasted like mint and lemon. I enjoyed it. It wasn’t even bitter.” 

“What did you do with the girl? How did you get her to confess?” The handmaiden had been gone when Sansa arrived to the Queen’s chambers. The rest had seemed frightened and jumbled; terrified of making the wrong move or saying the wrong thing. Sansa wondered what exactly Margaery had done to the girl and it was obvious that it was rather harsh. 

“When I discovered what was in my tea, the girl was foolish and carless. She left the remains of the leaves on the tray. I got so angry that I slapped her and demanded to know what this was. She wouldn’t say at first so I slapped her again and again until the side of her face was raw. Eventually she confessed everything to me. Once I knew the truth I had four guards drag her from the room and throw her out of the city. I was rather unkind.” 

“I’m sure she will be fine. A girl like that will find work again. Won’t Cersei be wondering where her informant is?” While Sansa didn’t know the names of everyone of Baelish’s informants, even though he could, she assumed that Cersei would know every detail of the one who was spying on Margaery. Cersei had an unhealthy fixation and obsession with her hatred of Margaery; she certainly wasn’t going to ignore the fact that Margaery forcefully dismissed the one person who was preventing Cersei from becoming a grandmother. “Cersei can become rather reckless when she is angry.”

“It doesn’t matter. I will make sure that her opinion is irrelevant.” There was a darkness to her tone that Sansa had never heard before. Margaery always complained about Cersei but she knew how to handle her. In many ways it was like a chess game, one making a move against the other but Margaery never sounded so deadly before. If she were to remove Cersei from the equation, whether it be having her banished from King’s Landing or worse, it could put the Queen in a perilous situation with her husband. She might lose the control she had worked to gain and neither Baelish nor Sansa could risk that. If Margaery controlled Tommen and they controlled Margaery, then they controlled the throne. 

“What are you going to do?”

Margaery didn’t reply at first, instead she allowed the silence to linger in the chamber. She went over to the window and stared at the beautiful view of King’s Landing. It was a far better view than the one she shared with Baelish. Yet, as Margaery gazed out the open window, it was obvious that she wasn’t really seeing it. Her mind was dictating what she wanted to do. It clear what she wanted but she was wondering if she would be able to do it. 

“I’m going to make her disappear.” There was no other interpretation that Sansa could see behind Margaery’s meaning. She wanted Cersei to meet the same messy end as her son and no matter how much Sansa hated Cersei, she had to go by her husband’s advice and allow the woman to live, for now. She had enough faith in her husband to know that Cersei would one day suffer her fate, it just wasn’t going to be today. 

“Margaery, are you sure that is wise? If you take out Cersei now, they'll know it is you.” Margaery snorted and went to give a rebuttal but Sansa cut her off again. “You have three handmaidens who currently know that you are furious with Cersei and they know why. What she has done is beyond reproach. You have every right to be furious with her, and the handmaidens know it. If Cersei dies now, they will know it was you and why wouldn't they tell Tommen of it? How do you think the King would feel if his Queen, the love of his life, murdered his mother? Do you honestly think he would spare you?” 

“Then what would you have me do? Spare her? Let it go?” That was exactly what Sansa wanted her to do but she knew better. She knew that Margaery wasn't going to drop the subject and forget about it. Her body language told the entire story. Normally the Queen was better had concealing her emotions but right now they were all laid out on the table. Margaery trusted Sansa and once again, Sansa wondered if that was wise. Sansa would do anything to make sure Baelish's schemes became a reality; even if it meant betraying the only friend outside of Baelish and Arya she had. 

“Of course not.” Sansa stood from the seat she was sitting on. She winced slightly as she moved. She walked toward Margaery and grabbed her hands, giving them a tight squeeze. “What she did was unexceptionable and she must be held accountable. Killing her isn't the answer. It will just cause more issues. If the truth came out that you were behind it, what would Tommen do? You along with your house would be squashed.”

“But its okay for you?” Margaery snapped and pulled her hand out of Sansa's grip before crossing them in front of her. “Its alright for you to kill Joffrey in revenge but it not okay for me to do the same thing.” It felt like a slap in the face. It was a low blow and the look on Margaery's face caused her to realize that she had gone too far. It was different. Completely different and they both knew it. “I'm sorry. That was out of line.”

“I understand you're frustrated-”

“Then what would you have me do? Nothing!”

“I'm not saying that. I'm saying that maybe, just maybe....” She was searching for words that were not coming. “Maybe you should tell Tommen.” The words even surprised her because she knew that her first action, if she was in Margaery's shoes would be to go to her husband. Baelish would rain down fire upon anyone who fed his wife moon tea and killed their children. She wasn't certain that Tommen would do the same but the words were out and she must go with them. “Go to him. Rant and rave and cry. Let him see you hurt. Let him see you mourn your children. Let him see the damage Cersei has done. If he sees how hurt you are, if he sees how fragile and broke Cersei made you, he won't be able to forgive her.” 

“And what do you think he would do? Throw her in the black cells?” Sansa didn't reply because she wasn't sure exactly what Tommen would do. If it were Joffrey, he would have had is mother publicly executed, possibly doing it himself but Tommen was different. He was softer and weaker. Sansa wasn't certain if he would be able to punish her at all. Clearly Margaery was having the same thought. “I think I would like to be alone now. I will think on your words. You may go.”

“Your Grace.” Sansa attempted to give a curtsy however she wasn't able to do so properly. With her growing stomach and being sore from her attack and her pregnancy, doing such things were difficult. She turned away from Margaery and showed herself out of the Queen's chamber. Sansa knew that Margaery would think on her advice but Sansa didn't believe for a moment that she would follow them. She could see the writing on the wall that a battle between Margaery and Cersei was coming. Sansa could only hope that she was able to shield her family from the outcome. 

She needed to speak to her husband.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, so my amazing beta is sadly not able to continue editing for me. This means I am searching for a new beta. If anyone is interested please let me know. I am looking for someone to edit grammar issues, plot holes and just general opinions. 
> 
> As always, let me know what you think of the chapter and please forgive any mistakes.


	99. Chapter 99

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to remind everyone that I currently do not have a beta. If anyone would be interested, please message me.
> 
> All mistakes are my own.

Chapter Ninety Nine 

Margaery glided down the Red Keep, the train of her blue silk dressing gliding behind her. The day was beautiful and sunny. The rays beat down upon her skin in an unforgiving way. Highgarden was never this scorching hot. The Reach was warm but the temperature and weather was perfect for farming. It never got cold and it never felt as though the sun would set fire to your skin. The Reach was perfect and Highgarden was home. She missed it. She missed the gardens. She missed the festivals. She missed how loose and welcoming the people where. She missed the blind eye people turned at others indiscretions. She missed how little people cared about the gossip or the ongoings or others. She missed everything. 

The Red Keep was beautiful certainly and she had been impressed when she first came here to meet Joffrey. The smell was overwhelming and took a very long time for her to grow used to it. Highgarden had always smelled like roses and Margaery never really noticed it until it was gone. While the Red Keep was illuminating and she couldn't help but feel like royalty, it always fell short when she compared it to the home she had grown up in. She tried to find the positives in the Red Keep but every time she found something that Highgarden did better.

Everything that Highgarden was, the Red Keep was not. 

But Margaery was not one to whimper or feel sorry for herself. No. She was raised to make things go her way; to change events. She thought on her grandmother, whom had left King’s Landing shortly after her wedding to Tommen. If Lady Olenna saw Margaery acting in the manner she had done in front of Sansa, she would have been very disappointed in her. She would have slapped her and told her that complaining would do nothing, instead she needed to find a way to change it; and Cersei was her problem.

She didn’t expect Sansa to do anything about Cersei; for Margaery wasn’t stupid. She counted Sansa as a friend but she knew to whom she was married to. If her loyalty was tested and Sansa needed to choose between her and Baelish, Margaery knew Sansa would choose her husband; just like she would choose Tommen. However, she was surprised that Sansa attempted to talk her out of ending Cersei. Cersei was the mother of the monster who raped her, and she allowed it to happen. How could Sansa defend such a monster? It took her by surprise and caused her to question what Sansa’s motives where. She had watched her friend murder the man who raped her in cold blood and Margaery wondered it perhaps she had some plan of her own. Perhaps Baelish was helping her plan another murder because it was clear that Sansa had an appetite for killing her enemies. It made Margaery glad that they were friends. While she may not trust Sansa or Baelish completely, she was certain that Sansa wouldn’t have her killed. 

So Margaery formulated a plan. She sent one of her best and most discrete ladies to find someone who could take care of this problem for her. It wouldn’t do for Margaery to do it herself, for that would be far too obvious. No, she would have to have someone do the dirty work for her in order to keep her own hands clean. When her lady came back to her with the news of something peculiar, Margaery had to learn more. So she left her chambers and made her way down the long stone corridor that led to one of the conclaves that peered over a cliff and into the ocean. She slowed her walked and listened. She could hear the distinct sound of steel on steel. If she wasn’t paying attention, she might have missed it because the sound was washed out by the crashing of the waves. Closer and closer she moved toward the sound until she was standing in an archway, looking down upon the training session in progress.   
“Pivot left. You know my weaknesses, use them. Don’t allow your feelings to cloud your judgement.” The voice had thick Braavosi accent to it. It didn’t surprise Margaery because a great many warriors come from Bravos and it was certainly someone Baelish would hire. He didn’t strike Margaery as the type who would hire the best knight Westeros could find. He would want something unexpected and untraditional. This had Baelish written all over it. It didn’t surprise her in the least. 

Then again, when she heard about the lessons from her lady, it didn’t surprise her then; because she already knew about it but never thought twice on it. As she watched the small girl dive, block and strike, it amazed Margaery that she didn’t think about it herself. Arya Stark was a trained swordsman and was deadly. She had already spilled one man’s blood and Margaery would be foolish to think that Arya would never kill another person. She never thought about Arya in this light before, always seeing her as Sansa’s younger sister but she now realized that maybe Arya was the perfect person to solve her little problem. 

“Hem hem.” Margaery coughed falsely, causing the dueling pair to halt their movements. They both looked at her and the Braavosi man bowed to her but Arya remained still. The fact that Arya didn’t bow to her didn’t irk her as much as it would have Cersei. She was the Queen and she played her role well; but there were certain parts that still baffled her. She wanted the respect and she enjoyed the perks but there were certain things that made her question if she was meant to be Queen at all.

“You’re Grace!” The Braavosi man exclaimed with a wide smile. He was charming but there was something about him that made Margaery question him. It was clear that this man was deadly and perhaps that is what drew Baelish to him. He wanted to nurture something he saw in Arya; something most overlooked because of her size. Margaery realized that she had overlooked it in her but now seeing her with a sword in her hand and knowing that she killed Theon Greyjoy; Margaery wondered how she could have missed it. “How may I be of service to you?” 

“I was hoping to have a word with Miss Stark.” The trainer nodded and looked towards Arya, whose eyes didn’t leave Margaery. He indicated that they would continue their lessons the following day. He picked up his sword and bowed to Margaery one last time. She moved out of the archway in order to allow the swordsman to pass by. He smiled at her as he left, Margaery watched him over her shoulder to simply make sure that he was out of the way. “How long have you been training for?”

“Since my father and brother died.” It was a short answer as though she was suspicious of why Margaery would be wanting a word with her. The only real interaction she had with the Queen has been when Sansa was in attendance. Other than that, Margaery had never shown her any real interest. Of course she was always kind and involved her in conversation when Sansa would drag Arya along to some luncheon but they couldn’t be considered friends. Arya could only wonder what Margaery wanted from her. “But I was training with our Master at Arms, former Master at Arms in Winterfell for years.”

“Former?”

“He died. Theon.” 

“I’m sorry for your loss but you gave him justice in the end.” A flash of Theon’s dead and bloodied body lying on the wooden floor of her sister’s child’s nursery came to Arya's mind. She thought of it often. Every time she closed her eyes, Arya saw him dying. It was nothing like she imagined it to be. She had thought that she would be free of Theon once she killed him but now it was like he haunted her. She saw him in her dreams and it wasn’t exactly pleasant. She wouldn’t consider it a nightmare but she didn’t look forward to them either. However, no matter how haunted she might feel, she would never change her actions. Theon was dead and she was glad for it. If anything, it made her push herself harder and train better. It was as though, the moment her sword punctured Theon’s flesh, she found her calling. “How did it feel? To kill Theon? The man who murdered your mother, your younger brother and your Master at Arms?” 

“Relieved.” The word tumbled out of her mouth faster than she could think. Arya paused and realized that it was the truth. She was relieved. She knew that she didn’t regret her rash actions to save her sister and her unborn child but the idea that she had killed someone had dug a hole inside of her. Maybe that hole was getting easier to live with. “I was relieved.”

“I felt the same way.” Arya cocked her eyebrow at the Queen which caused Margaery to laugh. “No. Not like that. I’ve never directly killed the man I am thinking of, but I was….an accomplice if you want the truth.” It took a moment for Arya to realize what Margaery was implicating. There was one person she could think of that Margaery would want to be free of. It was the same person that tortured and haunted Sansa for years. 

“Joffrey.”

“Correct.” Silence hung in the air for a moment but then Margaery was speaking again. “He brutalized Sansa in a way that is beyond anything he ever did to me, but he still caused me pain. He would get so angry and take it out on the person closets to him and unfortunately that was me most of the time. He always made up for it of course, buying me gifts and anything that I wanted. He gave gifts in order to keep me quiet. I enjoyed watching Sansa kill him; more so than I thought I would.” 

“I wasn’t aware that you helped her.” Arya stated in a flat tone. She wasn’t aware but it would explain the friendship Sansa had with Margaery. At first Arya had thought their friendship was born out of need for social advancement but it quickly became more. She knew Sansa didn’t fully trust Margaery, not that she trusted anyone, but that was something more. If Margaery helped Sansa kill Joffrey, it made all the sense in the world as to why they were friends. 

“It’s not well known for obvious reasons.” Again Arya was silent, trying to understand what the situation meant and what the Queen was asking her. Why would the Queen seek her out for no other reason but to bring up Joffrey? He was long dead and there was no point in bringing him back. Even Sansa didn’t speak of him but then again, she never spoke of him really, even to Arya. “I know you hated him for what he did. You mean the world to Sansa and I know she feels the same way. You would have hated Joffrey for what he would have done to her. If someone had harmed Lores the way they did Sansa, I would want them dead. I would want their whole family to burn. Wouldn’t you?” 

“What are you asking me?”

“I’m asking what you think of the Lannisters.” 

“They’re all but dead.”

“Cersei and Jaime are not.”

“Neither are Tommen and Myrcella.”

“They’re Baratheon’s.”

“So was Joffrey.” Arya retorted, causing Margaery to smile and laugh slightly. Arya was beginning to see what Margaery was after. She wasn’t there to speak about Joffrey at all but instead his parents. They had arrived at the subject matter but she was curious as to what the details would be. Why was Margaery so interested in them all of a sudden? She knew that the relationship between the Queen Mother and the Queen was strained and contentious but why would that make Margaery seek her out? “Forgive me for I am not very political.”

“Then perhaps it is best if I speak plainly?” Arya nodded. She wasn’t someone who enjoyed innuendos and hidden threats. She wanted everything to be done directly. If everyone didn’t hide behind coded messages, the world would be a simpler place. She hated politics. “Cersei has taken something from me. Something I need and she knows it. Before I could ignore her insults and turn my back on her because she was in check. I had her reigns and could control her because she was powerless; but not now. I need her gone.”

“You’re not the only one she has stolen from.” The words slipped from her lips before she could stop herself. Her eyes were wide and scared. Margaery could see that there was more behind that statement and needed to know what it was. What had Cersei taken from Arya and Sansa that could put this level of hatred in Arya? Theon and Joffrey were understandable but Cersei? Sansa didn’t like her but Margaery always assumed it was because she helped cover up Sansa’s rape. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“What has Cersei taken from you?” Her tone was persistent and she wouldn’t back down until she got the information she was looking for. When Margaery wanted something, she found a way to get it and her hatred of Cersei was like a burning fire inside of her that was all consuming. If she even had a hint of something that could potentially bring down the woman who prevented her from giving Tommen an heir, then she wouldn’t rest until she learned every detail. “Tell me.” 

“My family wouldn’t like it if I told you.” There was uncertainty there and Margaery could sense it. She could see that Arya hated Cersei just as much as she did and she needed to know why. If she knew, the easier it would be to convince Arya to do what needed to be done. 

“You mean your sister? Or Lord Baelish?” Margaery knew that Arya was under their thumb but still didn't have the same information and incite. Sansa was a player in the game and Margaery knew that. She was aware that her friend was just as dangerous as her husband. Yet, it was always going to be Baelish who was the one who brought terror to the back of her mind. One wrong move could bring her throne come crashing down. Tommen didn't realize that power the Baelish's had. Her grandmother had warned her about Baelish when her engagement to Joffrey had been made. It was wise to make him a friend and not an enemy and Margaery planned to obey that advice. 

She had learned that Lord Baelish was to be married to Sansa Stark, a fact that Joffrey had found most amusing, she was determined to make this woman her friend; even if that meant only gaining Baelish as an ally. Joffrey and in rare moments that Cersei had spoke to her, they both told her how naive and   
young Sansa was. They told her that she was no threat and within a few moments of meeting her, Margaery could see how wrong they were. Yet, that was nothing to the rumors that floated around. The court seemed to think that Sansa was some seductress who willing bedded Joffrey. It was also the basis for the rumors of her marriage to Baelish. Some said that her family must have caught them in bed together, forcing them to marry or they knew that she had gone to bed with Joffrey and they couldn't find her a suitable husband. None was true and Margaery learned that Sansa went into her marriage more than willingly, forcing her parent's hand in the matter. 

“Both.”

“It seems, Arya, that we are one the same page. I want Cersei gone. You want Cersei gone. I don't know the reason behind their motives for keeping Cersei alive but we both know that King's Landing and all of Westeros would be better off if she no longer could breathe.” Margaery gave her a comforting smile, the same smile she gave the children at the orphanage when she knew the right people were watching. It was manipulating but it worked when she needed something. She needed something for Arya. Margaery held out her hand and took Arya's; steering her toward the small stone bench. They sat down and Margaery smiled at her again. “What did Cersei take from you?” After a moment, Arya began to speak. 

“Your husband is a bastard.” It was direct but Margaery didn't flinch, which told Arya that she knew the truth. “He is the son of Cersei and Jaime. He was born of incest as were all of Cersei's children. I guess that is how it all began.” Arya looked down in order to collect her thoughts. “After Jon Arryn died, King Robert and the Queen, or Queen at the time came to the North to ask my father to take Jon Arryn's place. He was going to take it until Bran, my brother, fell. I guess his fall started it all. It lead to everything. It lead to my father turning down the offer of Hand of the King. It lead to Sansa being raped by Joffrey. It lead to us coming here and my entire family being slaughtered. When Bran died, it ruined the foundation of my family.” 

“He fell from a tower correct?” Margaery asked, not sure where this was going. She had heard that the Starks had lost a child. She had felt saddened for them but never really thought on the lost boy who was taken far too young. “I remember hearing about it when I was still in Highgarden. It must have been several years ago now. Before Winter came even.” 

“Yes. Except he didn't fall. He was pushed.” Arya stopped but it was only for a second. “Bran liked to climb. He would climb every inch of Winterfell but never fell; not once did he fall. King Robert wanted to go hunting so many of the people were gone but Jaime Lannister didn't want to go. So when Bran was climbing he caught them. He caught them together and he was pushed in order to protect that secret. He was killed to keep him silent.” 

“I'm so sorry.” Margaery whispered. She never really thought on the Starks she never met but she never thought how deep the hatred the Starks had for the Lannisters. Margaery hatred of her grew when she learned that she was preventing her from becoming pregnant but she was directly responsible for the death of a child. That was unforgivable. “Are you certain that Cersei was the one who pushed him?”

“I don't know but if it was Jaime, she controls him and he only would have done it because it was what she wanted.” That was true. Jaime was dangerous and strong but Cersei had him under her complete control because he was in love with her. If Cersei was gone, he would lash out. Margaery would have to take him in hand to prevent him from causing to much trouble. He would mourn and rage a war all over Cersei but Margaery would have to keep him under control. “I want her dead but Sansa and Baelish said that it wasn't time. Time for what I don't know but they always say that things have to be done at the right time and it just isn't right yet.”

“Well, what if I asked you to do it.” Arya's eyes snapped to Margaery's who quickly rushed on. “I mean what if you had more options. Sansa and her husband don't rule the world. I am Queen and I want her gone just as badly as you do. Whatever reason they have for keeping her around can not be as strong as our hatred and need for her demise.” Margaery grasped her hand tighter, squeezing it and shot her a pleading look. “I will make sure you are well rewarded and paid for your troubles. I know it needs to be you. No one else can give her the punishment she deserves.” 

Arya was silent for a long moment. Her mind was in a frenzy. This was what she wanted. Ever since she learned of the affair between Jaime and Cersei, she had wanted Cersei dead. She wanted that justice for Bran. Theon and Joffrey were both dead, even Sybil but Cersei was still alive and that was not enough for Arya. She needed all her enemies gone, but she didn't want to cross Sansa and Baelish. It wasn't just because Baelish was dangerous but she didn't want to hurt Sansa anymore than she already had been. While Sansa's actions and deceptions had bothered Arya and she had been angry at her, she didn't want to hurt her. The question was; what outweighed the other? Her desire or her loyalty? 

“Okay.” It was a whisper and there was a thrill rushing through her. No matter the outcome and consequences, this was what she wanted and it was the right choice. The bright and happy look on Margaery's face only solidified her decision. The Queen light up like she had never seen before. One would have thought that she just received the best news instead of simply planning a murder. They were talking about taking a life but Arya had never felt alive. The reality of Theon's death was still fresh and now had to be the perfect time for Cersei to join them. It was just another name off her list. 

“Whatever you need, anything you need arranged, come to me. I will make sure you are safe.” Margaery stood and began walking away from her before pausing. She turned back around and looked at the young girl who was still lost in thought. “You will be rewarded, handsomely. I will make sure that you want for nothing.” With that, Margaery turned again and leaving Arya behind; her skirts trailing behind her. Arya watched her leave; lost in thought and planning. She wouldn't rush it because it needed to be planned. It needed to be perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, what do you think? Will Arya go through with Cersei's murder? Is this what you expected?


	100. Chapter 100

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 100!!!!!!
> 
> Can I say how excited I am for this. It's a big one.
> 
>  
> 
> However, public announcement time. This chapter can get kind of graphic and not in the fun smutty kind of way, so you're forward. 
> 
> Also, this has not been edited by a beta. All mistakes are my own.

Chapter One Hundred 

The chamber wasn't what Arya expected. She had thought that it would be draped in red and gold with a giant lion plastered somewhere. Yet the cream curtains that hung around the open windows and the bed in the center of the room made Arya wonder if she had come to the right chamber. She was certain she had because Margaery was very direct when telling Arya how to get into the chamber unseen. She assured her that she would be very much alone with Cersei in order to get the deed done. It had been two weeks since she met with Margaery during one of her training sessions and had met with her several times since.

Each time, they were discussing how Cersei should be taken care of. They went through several different methods of how Arya should end Cersei’s life. Margaery was particularly fond of poison and making it appear a natural death. She found that it would be the easiest way to get it done without detection but Arya thought it was too easy. She felt that Cersei deserved something far more painful; because an easy death was far too generous for her. They toyed with the idea of pushing her from a tower, so she knew how Bran felt when he hit the ground, but the logistics of that were far too complicated. How would they lure her there without her guards to protect her? It was easier to bribe the guards to abandon their post for an hour in order for Arya to ambush her in her personal chambers. It wasn’t perfect but it would do. If Arya can leave the chamber unseen, no one would know that she was behind the death. 

Arya had stopped going to her lessons, unbeknownst to her sister and her husband, in order to meet with Margaery. They made sure that they were never seen together and their meeting place always changed. Margaery always came alone with no guards, telling her husband that she was helping Sansa prepare for the delivery of her child. In most cases, Margaery would visit the expecting mother in order to ensure her alibi. She was throwing herself into helping her friend because now that she no longer was unknowingly drinking moon tea, she was hopeful that she would become with child quickly. She had replaced her morning tea with warm water with lemon. She now also had the handmaiden make it in front of her to ensure nothing was added without her knowledge. 

These meetings lasted for an hour or so until Margaery proclaimed that they were ready to proceed. Arya felt ready even though she could hear Baelish's voice in the back of her mind telling her to slow down. She knew that her sister and brother-in-law would be horrified at her plan with Margaery. It wasn't that they would be horrified at the idea of her murdering Cersei but rather the fact that she was moving so quickly. Baelish always preached patients and planning every move perfectly. She knew that he would have taken more time and thought of every angle before striking. That is what made Baelish so dangerous. He thought of every angle that no one would suspect him until they had the knife plunged deep into their back. It terrified Arya to think of his reaction when he learned that it was she who took Cersei's life. That thought almost stopped her and caused her to call the entire plot off. However, she was tried of waiting. She had been waiting since Bran was pushed from that tower. 

Arya was pulled from her thoughts when Cersei opened her chamber door, causing her to sink deeper into the shadows. She was followed by two handmaidens. Arya watched as Cersei was undressed by her handmaidens. She had to suppress her anger at watching her. She had seen Shae and later Ros tend to Sansa but her sister never once asked them to undress her when she was perfectly capable of doing it herself. Cersei seemed to deem it necessary to have everything done for her, even removing the simplest articles of clothing and snapping at her maids when they did something she didn't like. Her treatment of those she deemed below her only made Arya's decision easier. 

“Leave.” Cersei stated in a clip town when her handmaiden pulled to hard as her hair was being brushed. The handmaiden set down the hair brush and turned away. She left the chamber without a word while the other handmaiden took over her job. It was clear that this handmaiden was doing a far better job than the previous because Cersei seemed pleased with the feel of her hair in the hands of this handmaiden. “Where you able to do the job I asked of you?”

“Lady Margaery isn’t taking any more ladies Your Grace.” Arya noticed that this girl didn’t address Margaery as Queen and she was certain that Cersei refused to look at her as such. She ordered those around her to still refer to Margaery as ‘Lady’ and not ‘Queen’. Arya wasn’t clear if it was the opportunity that Margaery gave to her or something else but she felt a rush of loyalty for her. “She has grown suspicious of anyone who wants to enter her service.” 

“How she ever discovered she was being fed moon tea, I’ll never know but I refuse to allow that whore be the mother of my grandchildren.” Arya tilted her head in interest. Margaery was being robbed the ability to give Tommen an heir. As Queen that was her most important duty and Cersei was holding her back from completing it. It suddenly made sense to Arya. “I thought it was one of my more brilliant ideas. I didn’t think of it on my own but I should have. That whoremonger, Littlefinger, mentioned that it can be disguised properly. He would know. How many girls has he fed it to?” Cersei laughed at that. “Of course he didn’t realize the idea he had just given me. I know that his wife is close with Margaery but there isn’t any way that he knows what is going on. Sansa isn’t exactly the brightest person.”

Arya bristled at that thought of Sansa being insulted. Her sister was far more intelligent than Cersei gave her credit for. Sansa liked to play the dumb wife of Lord Baelish because it made it easier to manipulate and move within the court. Just like Baelish’s desire to be everyone’s friend with no motive. It masked how dangerous they were. The fact that Cersei assumed that Baelish’s discussion about the moon tea was not done on purpose only showed how little she knew how dangerous Sansa and Baelish were. It also startled Arya to realize that it was Baelish who stopped Margaery from becoming with child. She realized how deep they were in with the political on goings of court and it almost made her change her mind. However, her desire to end Cersei far outweighed whatever mysterious game her sister and brother-in-law were playing. She knew that she would never mention what she learned to Margaery. While she may be betraying her sister by killing Cersei against her wishes, she wouldn’t ruin their plans completely. If they didn’t want Margaery to become with child, there was a reason. 

“You can leave me.” Cersei stated and the handmaiden nodded, setting the brush down and leaving the chamber. Arya watched Cersei for a few moments. The former queen didn’t leave her vanity, instead she simply stared at herself in the mirror. After a moment, she closed her eyes and placed her face in her hands. Arya knew that this was her chance. She knew that now would be the time to make herself known for Cersei was all alone, with not even her handmaiden to protect her. Arya gripped her sister's dagger in her hand and reached out; taking Cersei's golden locks in her hand. Quickly before the former queen could realize what happened, Arya cut the long locks from her head. An uneven short cut was now being sported by what used to be the most beautiful woman in the world. 

Cersei flew from her seat and stood with wide eyes. Arya stood in front of her with a proud smirk on her lips. Cersei gave out an outraged cry and backhanded her across the face so forcefully that Arya stumbled. She was able to catch herself on the poll on the fourposter bed. She could taste copper in her mouth and she spit the blood out of her mouth. The red liquid sprayed, staining the cream silk that was on Cersei's bed spread. Arya pushed herself up and turned her gaze back to Cersei, who was looking at herself in the mirror. Her hands were running through the hair she had left and there was panic on her face. Arya could easily strike now while the former queen was distracted by her own vain however Arya found it comforting that her beauty was stripped away. 

“You evil child!” Cersei screamed out and grabbed her golden hairbrush. She threw the brush toward Arya who dived before it hit her. She could hear a thunk against the wall where the brush had it. She sprung to her feet quickly and placed her hand on Needle that was still on her hip. She didn't draw because she was not ready. Arya needed answers first before she spilled Cersei's blood along that same cream comforter. “Guards! Guards!” 

“They're not coming.” Arya stated, causing Cersei's screeching to come to a halt. Her green eyes widened as though she couldn't process those words. Her gaze kept flickering to the wooden door but no guard came bursting through. Cersei realized that she was on her own and Arya could see the fury behind those eyes. Cersei crossed her arms and peered down at the much shorter girl with an angry scowl on her impeccable lips. “It's just you and I.”

“You're going to pay for this.”

“Probably.” She agreed as Baelish's voice whispered the word 'consequences' in the back of her mind. She had hope that she would come out of this unscratched but she was beginning to know better. At the very least she would have to face Tommen's wrath if he knew she killed his mother. At the worst, she would have to face Baelish who was by far the most terrifying man she ever met. She fully comprehended that by standing there, she was making him her enemy. The part that made her sad was that she knew where her sister was going to be in the end; she would be standing by her husband's side until they both died. “But you won't be the one collecting my payment.” 

“We'll see-”

“What did he look like?” Arya cut her off. She didn't want to hear any useless rambling that Cersei would give her. She had no time for it. She felt that every word she spoke was a word used on borrowed time. Cersei should have died all those years ago up in the broken tower. She should have fallen to her death and her broken body lingered in the snow; not Bran's. “When you pushed him from that tower, what did he look like? Was he scared?” 

“I don't know what you're talking about.” She snapped far to quickly. Arya was expecting denial. Bran's death had been ruled an accident and that is what everyone believed. For a time, so did she until she discovered the truth. Since that moment looking down upon the mangled body of Tywin Lannister and seeing that intimate moment between Jaime and Cersei, Arya has been consumed with the need for vengeance. That need led her to this moment and all her training was hitting her in full force. 

“Bran loved climbing. He would climb to the very top of Winterfell and look down at snow that lingered on the ground. He said he could see the entire North from the very top. He felt free there.” She lost herself for a moment in the memory of Bran. She remembered how bright his eyes were and how alive he was. He was so innocent, far innocent than either Sansa and Rickon were before the Winter and the world went to hell. “He would have never fell. He was too good and too careful. He was pushed but you know that. You know very well he didn't. You pushed him. You pushed him because he caught you fucking your own brother.” 

“I'm afraid that you are misinformed.” 

“Stop lying!”

“Jaime pushed him. Not I.” Cersei gave a merciless laugh, almost as though she was lost in her own misery. “I suppose there is no use in lying anymore. You're hell bent on answers. Yes, your foolish brother was climbing that blasted tower and Jaime pushed him to protect us.” Rage filled Arya like never before. Hearing her confirmation only made the desire for Cersei's blood stronger. “Targaryens wed brother's and sister's for three hundred years to keep their bloodlines pure. Jaime and I are more than brother and sister. We shared a womb. We came into this world together. We belong together.”

“Bran saw you with him.” Cersei had no response. While she was telling Arya exactly what she already knew, she wasn't confirming it either. She would never directly say that she had allowed her brother inside of her. It was as though speaking the words allowed made it worse than it already was. Arya briefly wondered if she ever spoke the words allowed to anyone. Sansa had told her that Tywin had discovered his children together; perhaps then? Or to Jaime? 

“Do you love your family?” 

“With all my heart.”

“No more than I love mine.”

“And Joffrey? Tommen? Myrcella? All Jaime's?”

“Thank the Gods. In the rare event that Robert had left his whores long enough to stubble drunk into my bed I would finish him off in other ways. In the morning he didn't remember.” She closed her eyes and found herself lost in a memory again. “I had worshiped him. Every girl in the Seven Kingdoms had dreamed of him but he was mine by oath. When I finally saw him on our wedding day, lean and fierce and black bearded; it was the happiest day of my life. That night he crawled onto of me, sticking of wine and did what he did; what little he could do; he whispered in my ear 'Lyanna'. Your aunt was a corpse and I was a living girl. He loved her more than me.” Her teeth clenched together in anger. “Truth be told the first time I have Jaime was long before my wedding day but I would have given him up for Robert but in the end Robert pushed me towards him again. I'm sorry that your brother had to die but I couldn't risk losing everything I had with Jaime. He simply got in the way.” She reached out and took Arya's chin in her hands, examining the bruise that was forming on her face. “Enjoy the black cells.” 

Cersei let her arm go and Arya stood frozen for a second; Cersei's words sinking through her. The former queen pushed passed her and was heading toward the door. She realized that she was losing ground and forced herself to think quickly. The only thing Cersei really loved in this world before herself was her children. That much is clear when she stood to the side and watched as the monster of a son committed so many acts of violence. She did nothing when he murdered people in front of the whole court. She did nothing he raped Arya's sister. Joffrey. 

“Do you want to know how he died? How he really died?” Arya turned and saw that Cersei had stopped. Her shoulder's tensed and Cersei knew exactly what Arya had meant. The truth of Joffrey's death was unknown to her and that filled her nightmares. “You told me how Bran died so I'll tell you how Joffrey died. It wasn't Tyrion. He had nothing to do with it. It was Sansa.” This caused Cersei to whip around and it was clear that the idea of Sansa killing Joffrey never occurred to her. She actually disputed it when her father insisted. 

“She wouldn't have been able to. Your sister is a fool and a whore. Not a killer.”

“You continue to underestimate her. You don't see the damage your son has done to her. He broke her. He shattered into a thousand pieces and I was the one who had to pick those pieces up. I wasn't enough. Lord Baelish did a far better job than I ever could but she is still haunted by that night. It will be with her till her dying day. She came to King's Landing for one reason. To make him pay. She was forced to bow to him. She allowed herself to feel cruelty at his hands again for the soul reason to have his blood.” The more she realized how much damage the Lannisters had done to her family, the more she felt the urge to to kill her. Her hand on Needle's handle gripped tighter. “Sansa, along with Lord Baelish, The Queen of Thrones and Margaery planned to kill him. They all had a part to play. My brother in law acquired the poison that made him appear drunk and tired. Lady Olenna made sure it was slipped into his goblet during the wedding feast. Margaery led him to the chambers so willingly, promising her body to him but Sansa was the one who mutilated him. He stabbed him over and over again until there was nothing left. She told me in detail of his death. He was bloody and beaten but the sad thing is. He deserved far worse than what he got.” 

“You all will rot for this. I will make sure your entire family rots in hell. I will cut that child out of her before-”

“Do you honestly think that will happen? Who do you think has been running the Seven Kingdoms? It wasn't the King. Not Robert or Joffrey or Tommen. No. Lord Baelish has been controlling everything for years. He controlled who sat on that Iron Throne and who didn't. My sister controls him. Don't you find it strange that the moment she comes to King's Landing, death followed. First Lancel, well that was my doing. The aftermath, your imprisonment was orchestrated by Lord Baelish and my sister. Meryn Trant was revenge for Sansa because he held her down while your son raped her. Tywin, well that was all their idea. Never underestimate Sansa and certainly never underestimate Lord Baelish because it will be the last thing you do.”

This caused Cersei to lunge in a fury but the hours of practice Arya had dedicated to the sword paid off for she was far quicker. Cersei was weighed down by her love of red wine and age. Arya was sober and young, thus much more able to react. By the time Cersei reached her, Arya had Needle unleashed from the holder on her hip. Without realizing it, Cersei all but walked directly into the pointy end. To make sure it went in as deep as she possibly could, Arya pushed hard; feeling it pierce her body. With the same quick motion, she pulled the sword out and pushed Cersei to the point that she was kneeling on the ground.

Cersei's hand went to her stomach and then pull it away. Her hand was covered in blood and she looked at it as though it was a mystery. Arya watched her for a few moments but slowly stepped toward her when Cersei attempted to bring herself to her feet. She reached out to the bed-frame but the blood on her hand caused her grip to slip. Arya stretched out her foot and pushed it against Cersei's shoulder, causing the blonde woman to tumble backwards. Arya picked up the dagger she had used to cut her hair and stepped over her; one foot on either side of her hips. She leaned down so she was straddling her. She held the dagger up so Cersei could see the direwolf engraving. 

“This is what she used to kill him. I feel it only appropriate that it kills you as well.” With that Arya reached down and brought the cold blade to Cersei's throat. She pushed down and cut to the left; sliding it as deep as her strength would allow. Cersei didn't fight and for a breif second, Arya swore she saw relief in her eyes. But soon enough, blood was flowing and spilled all over the ground, staining the beautiful white rug that she had been laying on. Cersei bled out and Arya just watched her; realizing that it simply wasn't enough. She needed more. 

So, she just brought the blade to her face and began slicing. For a moment, Arya stepped outside of herself and became immersed in her work. It was as though she became an artist and that Cersei was her sculpture. Flesh was quickly removed and her hands were covered in blood but it didn't stop her. She just kept working because she couldn't allow Cersei to continue to be beautiful. She needed to rob her of that. Taking her life wasn't enough. She needed this to. Soon, her entire face was removed and there was nothing beautiful left. 

Arya stood up then and admired her work. At first she was rather proud of her accomplishment but then her surroundings sunk in. She looked around the chamber and saw how the blood spilled onto the floor. The brush still was lingering on the floor by the bed. Golden locks were on the ground by the vanity. Cersei's corpse was mutilated beyond repair and her white night gown was stained red. Arya looked down and saw the blood on her hands and on her clothes. Her heart began to race and her breath was inhaling. She had killed Theon and it was messy but not this messy. It was violent but not this violent. 

Arya grabbed both Needle and the dagger and ran out of the chamber. She had forgotten about any type of escape plan or clean up. She just moved. She wasn't sure if she saw anyone as she ran or even where she was going. All she knew was that her legs were taking her somewhere. One foot moved in front of the other. Before she could realize that the blood hadn't even dried on her cloths or hands, she reached her destination. She pounded on the wooden door as hard as she could. It opened and she saw Baelish standing stiffly in the door way. Peering beside him was Sansa looking at her with wide eyes.

“Oh Arya, what have you done?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Arya not only cuts off Cersei's hair (a sign of her beauty) but cuts off her face as well. What do you think? Did Cersei get her justice? What do you think will happen to Arya? 
> 
> Do you think that Arya acted rationally? 
> 
>  
> 
> Also, there will be 120 chapters in this story. I am almost done writing chapter 108 and the rest have been sent to my new beta. Hopefully I will be able to update more often.
> 
> Review are welcome.


	101. Chapter 101

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I am back. 
> 
> I just want to ask now....please please don't hate me. 
> 
> And thank you to my new beta!

Chapter One Hundred and One

The water was hot. Steam could be seen rolling off the walls of the chamber. The water was still because Arya wouldn't move. She simply stared down into the water where her eyes reflected back at her. The water was no longer clear but instead it was stained red from the blood being washed away from her body. It wasn't her blood, it was royal blood. The blood of a Queen; she wondered if it was still considered royal blood if Cersei was only Queen through marriage? She never even birthed someone of true royalty because all her children were born of an incestuous relationship between her and Jaime Lannister.

She felt the blood being scrubbed from her body but she wasn't the one doing the cleaning. Sansa hobbled around, caring for her because Arya knew that she wasn't in the state of mind to do it herself. Sansa scrubbed her sister's body all the while Arya just watched the blood seep into the water. The two blended together as though they were always meant to be. The blood was contaminating the peaceful water, darkening it and tainting it. In that moment, Arya felt as though she could not relate more to something other than this bath water. For she suddenly felt just as tainted; but Arya wouldn't change it. It was a shock, just like Theon was, but she would grow to get used to it and to live with it. She just needed to get Cersei's blood off of her.

The bath had been drawn for Sansa. Ros had brought up buckets of steaming hot water because Sansa had been complaining that her back was hurting. It had been happening more and more often to the point that Sansa found that she couldn't be on her feet for long periods of time. Maester Reedman had said that she still have a little of a month before she would most likely be relieved but it could be sooner than that. He urged that Sansa relax and Baelish made sure that she had everything she needed. When she requested a bath, Baelish ordered the best oils and the steaming water to be brought up. Sansa was about to submerge herself, when Arya had begun pounding on the door.

Sansa knew that she shouldn't be bending and carrying heavy things, but she was: this was Arya, her sister. She needed to help her sister the same way Arya had helped her all those nights ago in the Godswood. Baelish had been furious. He was pacing and speaking in fast tones to his men, to whom she knew who would help him fix what Arya had done. She had come into the chamber a bloody mess claiming that she had killed Cersei. Sansa's wide eyes flew to her husband whom she had only ever seen look so deadly, and that was when Joffrey had attacked her. Sansa realized that there would be consequences and she could only hope to help Arya so much.

If Arya was not her sister, Sansa knew that Baelish would have washed his hands of her and let the pieces fall where they were. Objectively, watching another take out a powerful player could potentially be a good move for them but not when the murder was someone so closely linked to them. Now it was all about damage control, especially now since it was clear who had killed the King's mother. Arya could have had anyone but she had to pick Cersei. It would have been better if she had killed Jaime, as long as it was made to be an accident, but Cersei was a far more dangerous target. Suddenly Sansa felt both angry and a hypocritical. Wasn't Joffrey as dangerous a target, and she killed him? In the back of her mind Sansa knew what the difference was. The difference was that back then everything was planned to the tiniest detail. This clearly hadn’t been planned well.

Arya was cleaned so Sansa placed one of her robes on the wooden table and picked up the bloodied clothes off of the floor and hobbled out to the main room in the chamber. She saw Baelish speaking to one of men who worked for him. He was taller than Baelish and had a dark complexion. He sent chills up the back of her neck and she knew that this man was the one Baelish used when he needed someone to disappear. She couldn't imagine what Baelish would need him for. They both looked up when Sansa entered the chamber and Baelish's eyes flickered to the clothes in her hands.

“Dispose of them.” He said with no emotion to the man standing beside him. The second man snatched the clothes quickly out of her hands before heading out the door. With the absence of the clothes, Sansa wrapped her arms around herself and walked toward Baelish. Normally he would have wrapped his arms around her but he was too angry to do so. Sansa knew that he wasn't angry with her and that he wasn't a physical person when fury pumped through his veins. He got quiet and paced; his fingers tapping against whatever he could find.

“What was he doing here?” Sansa asked as Baelish looked at her. She could tell that it took him a moment to realize what she was asking. She could tell that his brain was working in overdrive in order maneuver them to safety. He was distracted and angry but Sansa wanted comfort. She knew that he wasn't in the right mind to give her any but she felt that she needed it. She felt that she needed to hear his voice.

“I told him to keep an eye on Jaime Lannister. I fear that he might become a problem now that his beloved Cersei is dead.” Sansa hadn’t even thought of Jaime. She remembered how he had carried Cersei up from the black cells and how he had held her protectively in his arms. He wasn't going to take Cersei's death lightly. Tommen and perhaps Myrcella would have been an issue but Jaime never crossed her mind. She realized how foolish that was because he could possibly be the biggest issue. “He is a man who has lost the love of his life. That makes him reckless and dangerous.”

Baelish looked her in the eyes, and then she knew that this move was coming from an emotional understanding. He knew what it was like to realize he might have to live without the one person who made him get up in the morning. When Theon had attacked Sansa to the point that she blacked out, he had wondered if she would ever wake up again. He would have burned the entire kingdom to the ground, forsaking any plans he had made simply because there was no point in having power if he couldn't share it with her. While Jaime's motives might be different, the reaction of loss would be similar. Baelish couldn't risk that.

“That’s a good plan.” She didn't know what to say. She just kept rubbing her arms hoping to bring some type of relief. Yet nothing seemed to come to her as their child continued to kick her and cause her back to ache. This was not how this night was supposed to go. She was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to relax until she gave birth. However, this was the game and she should know better than that. The game never stopped and would never stop. She was beginning to wonder if she ever would get that peace even if they moved to Harrenhal or fled the country. “What now?”

“We wait.” She wanted to ask what they were waiting for but she knew the answer. It would come soon. Every reaction and move had a repercussion. That was a lesson she learned with Theon. Maybe this will cause Arya to finally learn what they were trying to teach her. Arya had gotten off with zero consequences when she killed Theon, other than the emotional toll it took, but it would not be the same with Cersei. Sansa could only hope that she didn't learn it at the very end. “How could she be so foolish? Did she honestly think I was going to let Cersei live forever? Did she honestly think that she wasn't in my plans? The end is coming. It is almost here that I can touch it.” subconsciously he extended his fingers as if to reaching out to his goal. He sighed and then looked at his wife “Soon our child will be able to grow up in the life I never had, but now Arya has fucked it all up.”

“You know why she did it. The idea of Cersei being involved in Bran's death haunted her. It haunted me to.” Baelish's eyes snapped toward her but she didn't allow him to interrupt her. “I'm not condoning what she did. I wish she hadn't, but I realize what was at stake. Arya doesn't. We have kept her out of everything. Perhaps that was our mistake. You know how reckless she is. She wasn't just going to sit on this for long. In fact, I'm surprised she waited this long.” It was the truth. It almost surprised Sansa that Arya didn't go after Cersei and Jaime the moment she learned of their affair and how it was suspected that Bran had caught them in the act; that they were the reason he fell from that tower. “She had always been there for me when I needed her. And now, when she need me the most, I failed her.”

“Don't blame yourself. You were here with me tonight. You didn't kill her. You didn't plan this.” With that Baelish allowed his arms to fall to his side and he walked over to her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked deeply into her eyes. “No matter what happens, no matter the consequences, you must not blame yourself. It won't be healthy for the child. Remember that.” She couldn't fully process what he was saying because it meant thinking about something she couldn't fathom. Baelish leaned in and kissed the top of her head.

“What are you talking about?”

“When they come for her, you must not fight it. You must let them take her.” His lips moved against her head and he began to rub her shoulders; hoping that it would keep her calm. Suddenly she realized what he was saying. Someone was going to come and take her sister away and do Gods knows what; throw her in the black cells? Kill her? What? She couldn't let that happen. Panic began to swell up inside her and she shook her head. “Sansa-”

“No. No. No!” She tried to push him off of her but Baelish wouldn't move. “You can't ask that of me! You can't let her be taken away. You promised that we would take her in. You promised we would look after her!” Her fists balled and she began to beat against his chest. Tears slipped from her eyes. “She is my sister! She is the last Stark! She is the only blood I have left! Don't do this. Please. Don't make me choose. You never made me choose!”

“I know. I know and I'm sorry to ask this but you must. You must let them take her because if you don't we will lose everything, and not just the game. I will lose you. We will lose this.” With that Baelish reached down and placed his hand on her growing stomach. She looked down and saw his hands caressing her. The child kicked in response, as always when Baelish touched her there. It was as though the child knew that their father was reaching out. “I know Arya means the world to you but if allowing her to be thrown in the black cells means that I can keep you and our child safe, I will do it without a second thought. Again, you must not interfere. You must not object to anything. Do you understand?”

“Petyr why are you-”

“He's right.” They both turned at the sound of the voice coming from the wash chamber. Arya stood in the archway, wearing some clothes Baelish had brought down. They were heavier than what one would wear in King's Landing. They were clothes Sansa had seen her wear in the middle of winter in the North. “Thank you for the clothing. I'm assuming the black cells are cold?” It clicked then. Baelish knew that the chances of Arya being thrown in the black cells were high and wanted her prepared. If starvations or thirst didn't kill her, the cold would. Baelish could at least help with one of the three.

“Who asked you to do it?” Arya didn't reply at first and Baelish wasn't in the mood to play games with her at the moment. “You wouldn't have done this without provocation. After everything we told you and asked of you, you wouldn't have gone to Cersei's chamber with plans to kill her unless someone asked you to do it. So tell me, who wanted Cersei dead bad enough to ask you to kill her?”

“You don't already know?” This caused Arya to give a merciless chuckle. “I thought that you would have figured it out by now.” Baelish didn't move or say a word; only glared in her direction, waiting for her to answer. “Queen Margaery learned of my lessons and she knew I killed Theon. She asked if it was something I could do.” Arya moved slowly toward the table where a bowl of fruit sat waiting. She thought it might be wise to eat something, for she wasn't sure when she would eat again. “I didn't know why she wanted it done but then she learned that Cersei had been feeding her moon tea. She wanted revenge.”

“Every action has a consequence.” Baelish muttered as Arya bit down into the apple she had plucked from the bowl. Both Sansa and Baelish were thinking about how it was Baelish that had planted the idea in Cersei's head about the moon tea. It was a necessary evil because Margaery couldn't become with child. Tommen must not have an heir. But giving Cersei that idea had consequences neither Sansa nor Baelish had thought of. He knew that if Margaery learned the truth, she would direct her rage toward Cersei and cause a conflict. It would be enough distraction within the court for Baelish to finish the last of his plans but he never predicted that Margaery would come to an agreement with Arya to take out Cersei. It was like catching Theon in the apothecary and having him banished from the North all over again. Some things just couldn't be foreseen.

“I'm beginning to realize that now. You have been trying to teach me that for a long time haven't you? I'm sorry but sometimes I'm a slow learner. Some things just take longer for me to understand.” She shared a long look with Sansa and they both knew how true that was. If Arya didn't want to learn it, she blocked it from her mind. Needlework came to mind. “I'm not sorry for doing it though. The shock has worn off. Much faster than the first kill I suppose. Cersei deserved to die and I'm glad that it was me who got to take her life; just like she took Bran's. The only thing I am sorry for was the issues it might cause for you.”

“We'll fix this.” Sansa stated in a hurried tone. She broke away from Baelish and went to her sister. She pulled her into her arms. While they hadn’t always been close, physical contact was something neither of them gave each other. “We will make sure that you are not down there for too long.” She pulled away and there were fresh tears in Sansa's eyes. She couldn't stop them but Arya's remained dry. Sansa looked toward her husband as though she needed reassurance “Right? Tell me we will help her?”

“I make no promises but I will do what I can.” Baelish replied but his tone was still hard. “But I won't choose between you and her. Your life and that of our child's comes first. If keeping you alive means I have to sacrifice her, I will do it.” He wasn't looking at Sansa as he said the words but instead at Arya as though he was telling her that she might die and he might do nothing to stop it. He would try but only because Sansa wanted him to but even then he made no promises.

“I did tell you once that your husband was a scary man.” Arya laughed at that. She looked at Sansa and she could see that her sister was still crying. “You replied that it was one reason why you adored him. Remember that when you get angry at him for his actions.” Sansa said nothing so Arya pressed on. “Don't be angry at him for this. If you need to be angry at anyone, be angry at me. He is trying to protect you and I wouldn't have it any other way.” She looked at her brother-in-law and nodded. “I understand.”

“No. We are not talking about this. No.”

“Sansa” cautioned her husband 

“No.”

“At least we get to say goodbye.” Those words struck her like a slap across the face. Something in Sansa broke and she couldn't see anymore. The world was blurry as the tears streamed down her face. She pulled Arya to her as close as she could and held her tightly. “We didn't get to say goodbye to Mother or Rickon. We didn't get to say goodbye to Father or Robb. We didn't get to say goodbye to Bran. At least we get to break that tradition.” Muttered Arya, her voice muffled through Sansa’s firm grip. 

“No.”

“I love you. Remember that okay?” Sansa was sobbing uncontrollably and even Arya’s voice cracked a little. “You will have to tell this child all about me. You will have to tell my niece or nephew how I used to get into trouble. Tell them how close we were. Tell them how I would have spoiled them and let them get away with anything and everything. Tell them that I would have done anything for them. Tell them that I would have loved them even if they weren’t of House Stark. They will have wolf's blood just like we do and that is enough. Tell them-”

Suddenly pounding could be heard coming from the other side of the door. Shouts for them to open up were loud and clear. The pounded harder and harder and everyone knew who it was. Sansa gripped Arya tighter to her hoping that if she held her close enough it would keep her there. Arya could feel the panic swell up inside her. Thinking about the black cells and having to be locked in one were two very different things. She didn't want to go to the black cells but she knew that this was her fate. Perhaps death would follow. At least she would see the rest of her family on the other side. At least she knew that Sansa would be cared for. That was enough that had to be enough. 

“King's Guard!” bellowed a voice as the thumping increased “Open the door!”

“Petyr please!” begged Sansa, whirling around and looking at her husband with pleading eyes.

Baelish ignored the pleas of his wife and went toward the wooden door. He opened it, and in that moment the boor burst open. Dozens of guard flooded into the chamber as though they were expecting a battle. Tommen and Margaery came in last. Tommen's eyes were red and it was clear that he was distraught over his mother. His blonde hair was a disheveled mess as though he had run his fingers through it several times. Margaery hung onto her husband's arm, consoling him. She seemed mournful as well but Baelish knew that it wasn't for Cersei but for what her husband was about to do. Tommen's eyes shifted over the chamber and landed on Arya. A deep loathing that Baelish never knew Tommen was capable of lingered behind his green eyes. No matter how many faults Cersei had, Tommen deeply loved his mother.

“Take her.”

“No!” screamed Sansa as Arya clung on to her. Guards moved toward them and had to pry the two of them apart. Baelish moved toward his wife and pulled her to him; Arya's hand slipping out of hers as a guard picked her up. He had pulled her towards his chest, trying to protect her, she didn’t want his protection now, so she fought him . He wrapped his arms around her, preventing her from getting in the guards way. She was screaming her sister's name, hoping that it would stop them from taking her sister.

“Sansa! No! Please! Sansa!” Arya's terrified screams could be heard echoing off the walls. A guard had her by the waist and picked her off the ground. She was small and it wasn't a difficult feat. She was kicking as hard as she could against him. Her hand was outstretched toward Sansa, hoping to grab it one last time. Sansa lunged forward and it nearly knocked Baelish over but luckily he was able to hold onto her. Sansa's hand was also outstretched but she couldn't reach her sister. Arya was being pulled farther and farther away till she was no longer an arm’s length away. When they reached the chamber door, Arya gripped the archway, digging her nails into the wood; leaving marks behind on the panel. The guard gave a hard yank and pulled her out the chamber. Arya was still screaming as she was being dragged down the hallway.

“Sansa!” The petrified voice wrecked through Sansa and her knees buckled. She would have collapsed if Baelish wasn't holding her up right. Arya's name was on the tip of her lips, whispering it as though it was a prayer to the Seven. Her eyes wouldn't leave the spot where Arya's nail’s had etched a mark. Baelish pressed her to him and kissed the top of her head, hoping to elevate some of her pain that he knew wasn't going to go away. The rest of the guards filed out, leaving Tommen and Margaery behind.

Tommen looked at Sansa, and Baelish was relieved to see pity there. He was angry but it wasn't directed toward them. Baelish glanced over the King's shoulder and saw Margaery shake her head. She must have somehow convinced him that neither Sansa nor Baelish had had any part to play in Cersei's death. It was the truth but it wasn't enough to save Margaery in his eyes. She was behind this and suddenly, Baelish didn't feel guilty for the betrayal that was coming. She had served him well but even good things must come to an end.

“I will look into it before I sentence her, but I will make no promises. I might have no mercy for her.” For one moment, Sansa thought she saw Joffrey staring at her and not his younger brother. Just as quickly as it had come, it faded away but it was enough for that familiar hatred to fill her up inside. Tommen turned away and headed out of the chamber. Margery lingered for a few moments before following him out, clicking the door shut behind her.

Sansa’s legs could not bear the weight of herself anymore, and so she sunk to the ground slowly. Baelish went with her, never letting go of her. She just cried, soaking his tunic through. He held her to his chest and rocked her like he had done so many times before. She felt broken but she had been there before. Baelish knew his wife and he knew that she was strong. She would hold herself together if not for anything more than their child. He had enough faith in her to know that even if she never forgave him, she would have enough strength in her to pull through, she always did.

“Arya”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter was very hard fro me to write. Mainly because I love the relationship Arya and Sansa have in Boden. However, I have been planning this path for Arya since the beginning. In GOT we see that she becomes this person who will take lives without second guessing it. We see her go through trials and heartache and everything else.
> 
> I wanted that for her in Boden. 
> 
> I wanted her to struggle and learn that actions have consequences. The only true way to learn this is by making mistakes and Arya needed to make a big one. 
> 
> Just remember, it isn't over. Not yet.


	102. Chapter 102

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back!

Chapter One Hundred and Two

The Sept of Baelor blanketed with a shroud of sorrow. Sansa found it ironic that out of all the deaths in the Lannister's family, this one was the hardest for her to deal with. The person who murdered Bran was the one she grieved for the most. Yet, it wasn't really Cersei she grieved for; it was the knowledge of what had happened after she died. It had been three days since Arya was pulled from their chambers and locked in the black cells. Their chambers seemed so empty now and Sansa never realized how much Arya’s presence had filled it, even when she wasn't there.

Cersei's murder and Arya's arrest had been the talk of the court. Everywhere she went, whisperers of Cersei's mutilation and Arya's screams could be heard. At every instant people stopped speaking when she came into view. Sansa had become unwanted, for no one wanted to speak or be seen with her. In truth, Sansa wanted it that way. She had no desire or time to mingle with members of the court. Even Margaery seemed to avoid her and it was clear why. To the outside, it seemed that the Queen would want to distance herself from the sister of the woman who had murdered the King's mother. Yet, Sansa knew better. Margaery avoided Sansa because she knew that she was partly at fault for the imprisonment of Arya....and she was scared.

Not long after Arya had been taken into custody, Baelish had shut her personal chamber up. Sansa was both relieved and distraught at the idea. She was relieved because the idea of having to face that part of the chamber was devastating. Yet, it almost felt as though Baelish was giving up hope all on Arya. She knew that he would do what he could but if there was no chance of saving her without taking himself and Sansa down a very dark and unknown path, he would toss her aside. She accepted that but she needed him to give it a chance. He promised that he was working on it but wouldn't say how. She knew him to be a man of his word, when it came to her, so she would simply have to trust him.

Yet, Sansa found that there wasn't much she could do. She felt miserable, the growing child inside her made every part of her body ache. The stress of worrying about her sister’s welfare in the black cells did nothing to ease her pain. There was also the concern that her husband has been withholding information from her; even before Arya’s arrest. When Arya was pulled from their chamber he had let slip that it was all coming to an end. Whatever grand scheme he had planned would soon come to fruition and Sansa was certain that was the reason behind his silence. He would spend long hours at the brothel, far longer than normal and if he was any other man, Sansa might have been concerned with his fidelity. Sansa knew Baelish far better than most and he would never touch another woman let alone one of his whores. If he did, they both knew that Sansa would make his life a living hell.

Despite the aches and pains she was currently feeling, Sansa found that she could no longer sit idly and do nothing. She summoned Ros and ordered her to pull her mourning clothes. The two worked diligently to loosen the hems and made other alterations in order for Sansa to fit into the dress. Many of her clothes needed altering with her growth. Baelish has promised to order her a set of new dresses once the child is born because her stomach continued to grow, there was no point for her to have a set of new dressed made when she wouldn’t be able to wear them for long. When the alterations were made, Sansa stepped inside of the dress and made her way out of their chambers. Lady and Nymeria were both on her heels, for the direwolves refused to leave her side since Arya was locked away. The wolves served a purpose for no one would dare approach her with them in tow.

She moved slowly but with a purpose. She ordered for a litter to carry her to the Sept of Baelor where the funeral procession for Cersei was being held. Many had already come and gone; viewing the body and mourning for the Queen Mother. It always amazed Sana how, when someone dies, people suddenly could find the good in them. Yet, even in death, Cersei would always be a dreadful person. When she entered the sept, Sansa noticed that she was alone; something that left her very relieved. In the center was an altar which held Cersei’s body. She stepped toward it and was surprised to see that instead of the normal elegance that the dead were given, Cersei was simply covered by a silk sheet. She had heard whispers that Arya had mutilated her body beyond recognition. Out of curiosity, Sansa reached to pull the sheet back but was stopped by a fierce voice behind her.

“You don’t belong here.” Sansa turned and saw Jaime Lannister standing behind her. She took in his appearance and he didn’t seem well. His normally perfect hair was tangled and there were dark circles under his light green eyes. His clothes were wrinkled as though he had attempted to sleep in them, not bothering to even change. Before her stood a man who was distraught at the loss of his love and if it was anyone else, Sansa might have even felt guilty; but this was Jaime and nothing he could do could would ever redeem him in her eyes. “You do not deserve to be here.”

“It was my understanding that funerals, especially those of royalty, were open to the public in order for a kingdom to grieve.” Whether that was true, Sansa did not know but she had never heard of someone being turned away from a Sept for any reason before. She eyed him carefully and saw how his hand twitched toward the sword on his hip. It would be easy for him to simply run her through right then and there but he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t make it a foot before two direwolves ripped his throat out. It was clear he had thought of the same thing because he made no movements. “Please excuse my wolves, they have become rather protective of me since I became with child.”

“Clearly bitches run in packs.” The insult took Sansa by surprise. Jaime was not the clever one of the Lannister children. That honor had been left for Tyrion. Sansa supposed that since the dwarf had fled the kingdom, it was only right for one of them to pick up the responsibility and everyone knew that Cersei didn’t have the brains for it; no matter what she had thought of herself. Part of her wanted to be offended by the comment but for the first time in days, she felt some sort of amusement. Watching Jaime grieve was far more satisfying than it should have been under the circumstances.

“Don’t get witty. It doesn’t suit you.” Sansa snapped back with a smile on her lips. Nymeria rubbed against her leg and Sansa reached down to scratch her behind the ears. Lady stood in a stance to attack, her teeth bearing at Jaime. The wolf’s growl could be heard echoing off the tall pillars and marble. “If you let me say my goodbyes to the dearly departed, I’ll be on my way.” Sansa turned her back on him and reached for the silk again but Jaime yelled.

“Don’t touch her. You don’t deserve to touch her!” A wide smile spread across her lips at the distress and it only urged her forward. Her hands gripped the fabric and just as she did so, she could hear Lady’s growl intensify. The direwolf had snapped at him when Jaime had stepped forward. For a brief second Sansa looked over her shoulder before pulling the silk cloth down completely. Before her lay the body of Cersei but Sansa couldn’t even say if it was her or not. The thing on the altar had poorly chopped blond hair and her face was completely missing. The eyes were wide with terror because there were no eyelids to shut them. Sansa almost looked away because the sight made her stomach churn but she couldn’t give Jaime that satisfaction.

“Well, well Arya, strange to see your handiwork first hand.” And with that Sansa covered the body back up and turned to face Jaime again. The look of pure hatred and fury was etched into every pore of his being. She thought for a moment that she should be concerned but she found that she couldn’t be bothered. Baelish was concerned about his retaliation but Sansa thought him to be far too broken. Either, Baelish had learned his lesson with Theon; someone who even slightly appears to be a threat would be executed. Soon, Tommen and Myrcella would be the only Lannisters left and they don’t even bear the name.

“I’ll make sure she hangs for this.”

“I’m sure you will.” Sansa moved closer towards him but kept enough distance between them so his sword couldn’t easily reach her. Nymeria and Lady never left her side, prowling between Jaime and Sansa; protecting their master. She had almost insisted that Greywind come as well but changed her mind. That wolf had grown rather close to Baelish and she felt some relief that he was protected with far more than just guards and whores.

“She killed my sister!”

“And you killed my brother.” Jaime’s eyes widened slightly, clearly not expecting that response. In truth, Jaime hadn’t thought much about the boy he had pushed from the tower many years ago. He had killed so many people, kings and children that they all blended together. He never spared the family a single thought even as his mother cried and wailed over his broken body. He had a need to save himself and Cersei, and he would do anything necessary to achieve that. Yet that brief second of instinct was the reason he had this hallow mass inside of himself now. “A tit for tat, wouldn’t you say?”

“She deserved better than that. She was a Queen!” Jaime spit at her and it caused Sansa to laugh heartily. The idea that Cersei deserved far more than what she got. Cersei was born with the privilege that most people wouldn’t be able to dream of. Instead of being humble and grateful for her ability to have the life she had lead, she was spiteful and cruel. It was never enough for her. In the back of Sansa’s mind, she questioned whether or not she was the same. She dismissed the thought quickly, assuring herself that she would never kill an innocent child.

“She deserved better? She deserved better?! Well you’re far blinder than I thought.” Sansa shook her head in disbelief. He must have seen her for who she truly was and maybe he did; maybe he just didn’t care about the ugliness that Cersei had been. “I’m sorry to tell you but Cersei got less than what she deserved. She was nothing more than a cruel whore with a crown on top of her head. What my sister had done to her was nothing compared to the pain and misery she has inflicted upon the Seven Kingdoms. It would have been far better if your father had thrown her off that Rock you call a home the day she was born.”

Jaime attempted to lunge at her but was stopped quickly. Lady and Nymeria’s fierce growls and snapping of their teeth’s made him pause. The direwolves’ hackles were raised, as they growled, almost like a warning. They were furious and Jaime knew that he wouldn’t be able to get through them without being mauled alive. Part of Sansa was worried if he would then at some point come after her physically when the wolves were not by her side or maybe Baelish; or worse, their child. Sansa pushed the thought away, noting to speak to her husband about it upon her return, and focused on the matter at hand.

“I told you. They bite.” She reached down and caressed Nymeria’s fur but her eyes remained focused on Jaime. “Perhaps you would like to join your dear Cersei. I could make that happen. With one indication from me, both Lady and Nymeria will tear you to shreds. I would say that it would be painless but then I would be lying. Either way, I would want you to suffer just like she did. Just like Joffrey did.” The last part slipped out, but she didn’t think that Jaime had registered what she had just said. Arya had told her that she confessed Sansa’s crimes to Cersei before taking her face off; but Jaime didn’t know and more importantly, Tommen didn’t know. It was imperative that it stayed that way. “Well, what is it going to be Kingslayer?”

“She liked you.” The comment almost caught Sansa off guard. While she didn’t expect him to answer, and his silence was telling, she hadn’t thought he would pay her a small compliment. She had thought that he would take the opportunity to abuse her some more. “She always said that she wished that you had been her daughter in law, not Margaery. She was always comparing the two of you and she always sung your praises; and this is how you repay her?”

“Cersei thought I was a fool and a naive child. She liked me better than Margaery because she thought I would have been easier to control.” Cersei wanted to keep ahold of her position of power so badly, that she would be willing to have a weak and feeble queen in order to control her and rule through her. “She didn't like me. Cersei didn't like anyone but herself. I was a better option in her opinion. It wasn't because she liked me. She missed me. She missed the opportunity I would have presented.”

“She wasn't as cold hearted as you make her out to be.” Jaime's tone was so heartbreaking that it almost made Sansa believe him. However, she wasn't sure if there was a side of Cersei she didn't realize or if he was as blind as she had assumed. She had once seen Cersei in a pure light, long ago, but once that naive side of her was destroyed, she had always assumed that the goodness she saw in Cersei was a lie. Perhaps she was wrong? “She was a good Queen. She was strong and brave. She was intelligent. She-she was loyal to her family and most of all she loved her children.”

“Enough to cover for them?” She remembered Baelish telling her for the first time how her reputation was ruined in the capitol. She had never stepped foot there and yet everyone seemed to think that she was a whore. When she married Baelish, it almost confirmed the rumor because why would such a young noble girl marry someone so far below her? It was assumed that Baelish was the only man who would take her. At least, that was the perception in King's Landing. Some thought it was due the taxes posed upon the North were impossible to pay. So, Lord Eddard Stark offered up his eldest daughter in order to get Baelish to pay the rest. Part of that was true but most believed it was a mix between the two options. No one thought she had actually wanted the marriage, including Jaime, it seemed judging by the look of confusion on his face. “You don't know do you?”

“Know what?”

“When I married Lord Baelish, what did you think? What was your honest opinion?”

“What does that matter?”

“Everything”

“I thought it was because you had slept with Joffrey. No one else would want you.” It was honest and for a brief second Sansa had a tiny bit of respect for the Kingslayer. No one else would say that to her. She knew of the whispers at court and what was said behind her back when no one thought she could hear. They would smile at her and pretend to like her but to them she would be nothing more than the teased king's first lover. She would be nothing more than the ruined daughter from the North.

“I never slept with Joffrey. Not willingly. He forced himself upon me.” She searched his face and there was not a trace of shock. He wasn't surprised at his bastard's son's actions. He knew what Joffrey was and what he was capable of. Sansa remembered how cold Jaime had acted toward the young king and thought about how much Jaime appeared to hate him. “He led me out to my father's Godswood. He and his loyal guard held me down. I couldn’t breathe for Meryn Trant's hands were chocking the life out of me. Joffrey forced himself inside me. It was more painful and fearful that you will ever know. When he was done with me, he couldn't even look at me. He just left me there, in front of the old Gods to freeze to death.” Jaime didn't say anything but Sansa could see exactly what was running through his mind. “Who told you that I slept with Joffrey?”

“It doesn't prove-”

“As I thought” Sansa cut him off. “You still won't admit it. Joffrey boasted about it and Cersei covered it up. She covered up the fact that her precious boy raped me just so King Robert wouldn't harm him. That isn't the only time she covered for Joffrey is it? I'm sure you've seen the dead animals or how he tortured the servants. Rumor is he made them scream. I watched him beat an innocent man to death at my own brother's wedding and you know what Cersei did? She turned her back and pretended that it didn't happen. That is who she was. She wasn't brave. She wasn't intelligent. She loved her children, yes, so much to turn a blind eye at what kind of monster one of them was. So don't fool yourself into thinking that she deserved more. Someone who is capable of covering up the fact that their son is a rapist or to push an innocent little boy out of a tower deserves nothing more than the pain they caused.”

Sansa moved then to brush past him. Both direwolves moved with her, making sure that they were between her and Jaime at all times. She was done talking. Just looking at Jaime brought back painful memories and the reality to where Arya was at, this moment. All of this was the result of the incestuous relationship between Jaime and Cersei. Everything was a result of their sin. The destruction and chaos was because they couldn't keep their hands off each other. She knew things would have been different. She wished they were different. Jaime remained silent as she moved and Sansa had thought that she had proved her point. She made her way up the steps and was almost to the outside when Jaime spoke again.

“You killed him.” She paused and looked over her shoulder. She turned and cocked her head; wondering where this was going. She knew she should be concerned if Jaime knew she killed Joffrey because it could cause her horrible situation to become much worse. “My father suspected you but I never knew why but he knew didn't he, what Joffrey did. He would only say that you had the most cause to want Joffrey dead but I never thought on it. Cersei however believed it was Tyrion; so much so that she convinced my father that my brother killed her son.”

“Her son, won't you acknowledge your bastard?” Sansa taunted. She threw him a smirk, knowing that he wasn't going to answer. “Your father was the smartest of all of you. I was actually surprised he allowed his own son to be sentenced to death. I thought he would have found some way to pardon him but instead it was my husband with the help of Lord Varys. Once again the Lannisters come up short.”

“What should stop me from telling the King that you murdered his own brother?” He would tell Tommen, that was certain but Sansa would make sure that he never got the chance. She would have to speak to Baelish to ensure that Jaime was never alone with Tommen and that his death came quickly. They had killed so many Lannisters, what was one more? Besides, Jaime was also responsible for Bran's death so she wouldn't feel too badly for him.

“I wonder who Tommen would choose. His wife, the love of his life or the memory of his mother and brother” Sansa smirked. “Could you imagine his dismay to learn that his blushing bride was not only behind the assassination of his mother but willing lead his brother to his death as well? It would be the biggest scandal King's Landing has seen yet. Do you think he would execute her? Behead her? Margaery would go down in history as the first Queen to be murdered for treason. Trust me Jaime, if Tommen ever hears the truth, I will ensure you go down with me. Not only that but be sure the Tyrells, the Riverlands and the North will come knocking. Make no mistake. Tommen may be king but we have more than just one kingdom behind us.”

Sansa made a swift exit out of the Sept and headed toward her carriage. She hobbled down the stone step and many of her servants and guards came to her side. The wolves let them pass, and they took her by the arms, helping her down the marble stairway. Sansa placed a hand on her back hoping to ease the pain there. She knew that she needed a warm bath and some rest in order to relax properly. Perhaps she would be able to coax her husband to join her and have him rub the aching parts of her body. When she reached the carriage that was sitting upon the ground, Sansa looked toward one of her guards.

“Parchment and a quill please” The guard nodded before turning away. She waited a few moments before he came back with her request. She wasn't sure from where he had retrieved it, just that he had done so. She scribbled a quick note and snapped her fingers. Nymeria came forwards and bowed slightly. She was smaller than Lady but far quicker. Sansa grabbed a ribbon and tied it around the direwolf's neck. “Take this to Queen Margaery and makes sure she is alone when you give it to her.” Nymeria gave Sansa an affectionate nip and sprang away. She watched her as the wolf hurried down the busy streets, citizens shrieking at the sight. “Take me to the brothel. I need to see my husband.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so Jaime is now a concern. I'm curious to see what you think will happen from here. 
> 
> Reviews are always welcome. 
> 
> P.S: I loved Lady and Nymeria in this.


	103. Chapter 103

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm back. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Chapter One Hundred and Three

The whispers could be heard as they passed. They were the topic of conversations in the most fashionable circles. It was easy to avoid people and court life when Sansa spent the majority of her time on bed rest. The idea of mingling with people after her brief confrontation with Jaime, she just had no desire to listen to those whisper about her sister and herself. She allowed everything to be handled by Baelish and he didn't mind.

They both knew that she was getting close to delivering their child. He wanted her to be comfortable and well for the birth. He knew that being around the people who whispered behind her back only made the pain of Arya's loss that much worse. He noticed how she was shutting down. She wasn't dealing because she was still holding onto the hope that Tommen would pardon Arya. However, Baelish knew better. Even though Tommen was a weak king, he would do what needed to be done. Killing the King's mother was an offense punishable by death. Just like when he sentenced Tyrion to die for the murder of Joffrey. He took no pleasure in it but he did it because it was expected of him. No amount of whispers from Margaery into his ear would do enough. 

Then again, Baelish wasn't even sure Margaery would want Tommen to spare Arya. She had used her to reach her goal but now would need to cover her tracks. Arya would bring her entire world down and it would be much easier if the girl was out of the way. If Baelish was in Margaery's shoes that is what he would have done. He would have disposed of Arya quickly and made sure that there was no evidence left. However, Margaery, no matter how tough and hardened she pretended to be, there were times that she was weak. She allowed her heart to get in the way..

She had a heart because Baelish had seen it. She felt things so deeply but she also knew how to put her emotions aside. It was one thing Baelish admired about her. He saw it in her the moment he rode up on his horse at Winterfell all that time ago. He could see it in her eyes when he kissed the back of her gloved hand. He saw how well she buried what she was feeling. He had known even before he met her, what Joffrey had done; but looking at her he could really see the damage within. Everyone knew the truth even though they enjoyed pretending that Sansa was the one who seduced the young Prince. It was easier than admitting who the real villain was.

Yet that was the life at court. Court was nothing more than what people wanted to see. If they dug any further into what lied beneath the surface, they risked ending up in a ditch and their families being compensated for their troubles. He knew court life like the back of his hand because he ran it at times. Sansa, while she detested the mere thought of those who occupied the court, was an amazing contender at playing the game. She was willing to make moves that most people wouldn't even dream of doing. He knew that this situation with Arya was going to hurt her but she was would push forward as she always did. She was almost as good as him. Almost…

He knew what the outcome of today’s court session would be. Everyone knew. The writing was on the wall. Baelish just had to hold off her execution for a bit longer. Everything would come clear soon enough. Soon these people of the court that Sansa hated with every fiber of her being would be on their knees. Soon their entire world would come shattering down in ash and fire. He had been working towards this for a very long time. Years. Since that moment he convinced Lysa to slip poison into her husband's wine, plunging the Seven Kingdoms into confusion and chaos. He worked hard spending the King's money, plunging every house into crippling debt. Building tension between Westeros and Bravos; debt that cannot be paid back to the Iron Bank, at least not yet. He slowly turned every citizen, both and high and low born against the throne because they lost their homes; their children starved and died. Baelish did this. Baelish worked endlessly to achieve this chaos. Baelish did this for one reason and soon his efforts would be rewarded.

“It’s a dangerous thing. Your plotting.” Baelish turned around and saw Jaime Lannister starting back at him. His eyes searched him and Baelish enjoyed what he saw. In the two weeks since Cersei had been murdered, Jaime lost an impressive amount of weight. His eyes were hallow and dark; with circles lingering under his eyes. “I should have known; when you came to Casterly Rock to collect my taxes. I told you too much. You got me drunk and I told you exactly what you needed to hear. I underestimated you.”

“A nasty habit of many” Baelish replied with a smirk gracing his lips. Sansa had told him that Jaime had figured it out. He knew of their part in everything. Sansa had forward Margaery to ensure that Tommen was never alone with Jaime; at least until he could figure a way to take care of him. Until then, Baelish would have all eyes turned toward the Kingslayer; night and day. “It is quite easy to play the game when no one thinks you're playing. My social status has been my greatest ally and my worst enemy.”

“Cersei thought nothing of you. She thought you to be a fool.”

“Her mistake.”

“Were you planning it then? At Casterly Rock? Were you planning her death as you sat across from me, drinking my wine as I told you about my engagement to Jeyne Westerling? Where you imagining how she would die? Did you plan it down to the night?” Jaime hissed in a low voice. Baelish's eyes flickered over of people milling around the Great Hall. This was not the ideal place for such a conversation but it was clear that Jaime didn't care anymore. His main reason for his existance was dead and he had nothing left to lose. He never cared about Casterly Rock or the Lannister name. It meant nothing to him without Cersei. He would cause a scene if he had too because he simply didn't care anymore

“Oh no. Of course not. Her death came much later.” Baelish internally laughed with he saw Jaime's hand twitch toward his sword. The man was no longer in the King's Guard and yet he continued to carry a sword around with him. He was slightly relieved when Jaime's hand moved away. Even when Cersei was alive, Jaime had been reckless and would even impale a man out in the middle of a crowded street. With Cersei gone, it was not clear what he would do. There were many outcomes that Baelish could plan for with Jaime but he really didn't want to leave it to chance. “However some things just don't go as planned.”

“You were planning to kill her?” Jaime hissed through clenched teeth. His fingers flexed and tightened. Baelish just smiled at him. It almost made him chuckle as though he was offended by an act that has not been committed. Cersei was dead but Baelish had nothing to do with it, no matter what his intentions might have been at one time. He had always assumed that Cersei would die towards the end, mainly because she had become less than a threat than Cersei had thought of herself. In reality, the only Lannister Baelish assumed would survive would be Tyrion and the niece of his; but even that was uncertain. Although, Baelish knew better than to say such things to Jaime.

“No. Planning is not the word I would use.” His cocky tone even surprised him. He knew that he shouldn't bait Jaime but Baelish really couldn't help himself. The broken man was so tempting to play with that he couldn't resist the urge. If Arya hadn't found herself in the black cells facing execution and Sansa wasn't in constant panic, he might have enjoyed the pain Jaime felt a tad bit more. While he had never met the young Bran but whenever Sansa spoke of him, she got this far away look in her eyes. The mere memory of Bran haunted her and Baelish hated anything that caused her pain. Jaime and Cersei caused her pain therefore he hated anything that had had to do with them. Of course he despised them before he met Sansa.

“Then what word would you use?”

“Nothing at all.” Jaime huffed in frustration. Something was on the tip of the Kingslayer's tongue but the words died on his lips. His eyes shifted toward over his shoulder. Baelish's gaze followed his but never directly let Jaime out of his sight. He saw Sansa standing at the entrance of the Great Hall and Baelish gave a great sigh. He had hoped that she would have stayed back in their chambers to rest. The child was taking a toll on her as she got closer to giving birth. He knew it was a foolish hope because there was no way she would miss this. They both know how it was going to end but Sansa wouldn't let Arya suffer alone.

“Letting herself go, isn't she?” Jaime replied with a sneer before falling back into the crowd of the court. Sansa always looked beautiful to Baelish; no matter what she looked like. It was obvious that she was tired and the bags under her eyes showed that. The closer the date came; the worse she began to look. Her hair, while tied back into a braid, had red strands sticking out. Her stomach protruded and her dress hung loosely around her. Her ice blue eyes searched the crowd as her hand gripped Ros's tightly. He would have to thank Ros because he knew that despite the obvious signs of distress, Ros did well to at least make Sansa appear presentable.

Baelish moved through the crowd easily. All eyes were turned toward Sansa as her name had been dragged through the court life recently. Eyes followed him as he made his way to his wife. He skipped up the few stone stairs that separated them. He reached out his hand and took hers into his. She greeted him eagerly, gripping him as though he was the only thing keeping her alive. She was shaking and he knew that it wasn't because she was cold. Cold was not something that King's Landing could be described as when it came to temperature. It was the nerves eating away at her.  He knew that they were not going to get better once this trial was over. If his prediction was correct, Sansa would only be more distraught afterwards.

“I tried to convince her to stay in the chambers My Lord but she refused.” Ros spoke in a low tone; her Northern accent could be heard easily in her voice. There were times that he forgot Ros had come from the North. She had once told him that Theon used to frequent her bed at the brothel she had worked at. That was a fact that he never re-laid to Sansa. It wasn’t important but he knew that it would cause her pain. He saw no point in causing her unnecessary stress in her delicate condition.

“Thank you Ros. I know how stubborn my wife can be. You may go.” Baelish replied and Ros gave a small bow before turning on her heals. He watched her go before turning to his wife. Before he could even get the words out of his mouth, Sansa held up her pointer finger and gave him a stern look. He knew that blazing look in her eye meant that she wasn’t to be trifled with. No amount of arguing would convince her turn back.

“Don’t even suggest it Petyr.”

“I was going to advise that we at least take a seat on the balcony, that way you are at least off your feet.” Baelish said and waived his hand toward that large marble staircase that would take them toward the upper level. Sansa gave him a disbelieving look and nodded. She knew very well that he wasn’t going to suggest the upper level at all but that she return to her chambers. She didn't want to argue with him, especially in the middle of the Great Hall but she was more than willing to do so if he tried to force her back to their chambers.

“Liar” She saw the sides of his lips perk up slightly but didn't say anything. “But fine, let’s go up to the balcony. My feet hurt.” Baelish nodded and placed her hand on the small of her back while he held onto her hand. He led her through the crowd but the people gave them a wide berth. The gap was due to the width of her stomach and the fact that it was her sister on trial today. When they reached the marble staircase, Baelish gripped her tighter as they made their way up the staircase. They strolled along the way, Sansa touching the railing of the balcony in order to assist with her balance. Her stomach was making it impossible to move easily.

“Let's sit in the shade. I don't want you to get over heated.” Sansa nodded as her husband led her toward a small bench. They both sat down and Sansa realized that people didn't look at her here. The shadow blocked her from the piercing gaze. She knew that many people would be staring at her during this entire process. Yet, the dark shade blocked her and her husband from sight; she never felt more grateful to her husband in that moment.

“Thank you.”

“Always”

The whispers picked up quickly and Sansa saw that Tommen had entered; making his way to the throne. Margaery was hanging on his arm just like she had been for the past few days. The Queen refused to leave her husband's side, claiming that he needed her during this time of grief. Yet, that could be the farthest thing from the truth. Sansa knew Margaery and she knew that her devotion to her husband stretched as far as her own interest. She couldn't risk Tommen being left alone with Jaime. Her own life depended on it as did Sansa and Baelish's. It was one of the many reasons their friendship last as long as it did.

Sansa was now questioning their friendship. She knew that Arya was the one who committed the crime but she was not the only guilty one here. Margaery had used Arya for her own gain and now fighting to keep her head firmly attached to her neck. Tommen wasn't bloodthirsty like his brother was, but even Sansa couldn't guarantee that he wouldn't fly into a blind rage if he learned that his own wife was the reason that both his brother and mother had been murdered.

It almost amazed Sansa how far Margaery had come. As she stared down at Tommen taking the Iron Throne with Margaery by his side, Sansa thought about how opposed Margaery was to killing Joffrey. How frantic she was at the idea of taking another human life. While she never spilled the blood herself, it amazed Sansa how much murder stopped bothering her. Sansa wondered if she would ever be able to actually do it herself. She didn't think so. Margaery was too much like her grandmother; strong willed and capable of anything but would always have others do the dirty work if possible.

Silence fell over the crowd as the doors to the Great Hall opened and three guards entered. Between two of them was Arya and it appeared that she had a difficult time standing. Sansa inhaled sharply at the sight of her. Even while they were up on the balcony, Sansa could still see that her sister was in an awful state. She appeared unclean and weak for the guards had to physically pull her towards the judgment booth that was set up at the front of the throne. It was also clear that she no longer had shoes and Sansa wondered if she was even wearing shoes when she was hauled off to the black cells.

Tommen had moved from a simple sentencing in matters such as these. Joffrey had banished trials shortly after he had become king. No one had the right to a fair trial anymore and Joffrey took pleasure in the sentence, even if they were innocent. In fact, it appeared that Joffrey enjoyed that more, taking lives of those who least deserved it. When Tommen took the throne, he followed his brother's tradition for one man only; Tyrion. He sentenced Tyrion to death with no trail because everyone was certain that he had been guilty. After that, Tommen reestablished trials and even in circumstances like this, he was determined to see them through.

The guards all but threw Arya into the box where she would stand for the trial. She grabbed the edge of the box and pulled herself up till she was standing. She leaned against the railing and her head turned, searching the crowed. Sansa could tell that Arya was looking for her and she felt her ice cold heart crack with the realization that she couldn't find her. She hated the fact that she couldn't find her sister was devastating. The thought that she would see Sansa again was the only thing that kept her sane; now she couldn't see her.

“Up here. I'm up here.” Sansa whispered but Arya didn't look up. She never looked up. Sansa gripped her husband's hand tightly. She willed Arya to look up but nothing. She had never prayed to the Gods, neither old nor new, but for the first time she was whispering a silent prayer that her sister would stop searching and just turn her gaze to the balcony. “Please. Look up here.”

“She knows you're here. She has to.”

“No. She doesn't.”

And then it began. Person after person were called forward, speaking to the King about Arya. They spoke of her character and habits. They spoke of her training, her lack of desire to socialize with people of the court. They even pulled Syrio onto the stand to describe what happened during their sessions. Sansa was angry at first at the idea of Syrio betraying her sister and had plans to beg Baelish to have him murdered in his sleep. However a few minutes into his testimony, she could see that Syrio was masterfully evading their questions. He wasn't giving them any damning details. If anything, he was painting Arya as someone who couldn't possibly pull off the murder that they were accusing her of.

Yet they all knew differently.

They all knew that she killed had Theon.

That was the most damning piece of evidence they had.

And it was one that they wouldn't be able to walk away from.

Person after person and testimony after testimony brought the irrevocable evidence that everyone had come to conclude; Arya was guilty. There was no getting around that. The outcome was obvious and it tore at Sansa's insides. She reached out and gripped her husband's hand, squeezing it tightly. He returned the pressure but never looked at her. His eyes were narrowed at the throne but Sansa could tell he wasn't watching the King but instead, his wife. He was watching her every move and not once did she whisper in her husband's ear. She was going to let him sentence Arya to death even though she was the reason that Arya was going to die in the first place. Margaery just sat by the King's side playing the faithful Queen who had never done anything dishonest.

It made Sansa sick. She had thought of Margaery as her one true friend in this city. She had never fully trusted her and yes, she had betrayed her in more ways than one but this was beyond comparison. If positions were reversed, Sansa knew that she would use Loras until there was nothing left, even if it meant his death. She just didn't fully believe that Margaery was capable of turning a blind eye. Perhaps the night Joffrey died changed her.

“Arya Stark, you are being charged with the murder of the Queen Mother. We have heard evidence against you. We have heard evidence in your defense.” Sansa could see that the words were difficult for Tommen. It was as though bile was rising in his throat and he was choking on it. The entire court knew what the outcome was going to be and Sansa wanted him to choke on his words. “How do you plead?”

“She was a monster. She killed my brother.” Whispers broke out through the crowd and heads turned to one another. They thought that she would beg for her life but she wasn't going to. “Bran was just a child and she pushed him out a window. His body hit the ground and she broke him. Bran deserved to live and she didn't. She murdered a child.”

“What are you-?”

“At Winterfell! When King Robert brought you all there to beg my father to be his Hand. Remember Bran? Remember how he fell?” Tommen said nothing, instead he simply looked at her as though he had never met her before. “Bran climbed that tower to see your mother fucking her own brother.” The whispered died down; no one breathed a word. “It's no secret. You're not the king. You're an incestuous bastard who has no right to that throne. Your mother was nothing more than a monster and whore. If I had the chance, I would kill her again.”

It was as though all the air had been sucked out of the room. Arya had just called the King a bastard in front of the entire court. She had just released the secret that Baelish had tried to hide the entire time Sansa had known him. The world was going to rebel against King Tommen if they believed the lie to be true. The throne would be distracted to focus on anything else and Sansa knew that Baelish would use that. She turned to her husband and saw that he wasn't angry at Arya's actions. He wasn't surprised either.

“Are these your final words?” Tommen finally asked.

“Yes.”

“Arya of House Stark, you have been found guilty of the murder of the Queen Mother. For this, I sentence you to death.”

“No!” Sansa screamed and Baelish quickly drew her into his arms. Heads turned upward, including Tommen's and Margaery's; as did Arya's. Even from a distance, Sansa could see the relief at hearing on Arya’s face on hearing her voice. She realized that she didn't face this alone. Sansa was there and even though she couldn't see her, she at least was able to hear her sobbing voice one last time. “Please! No. Please.”

“I'll fix this. I promise. I'll fix this.” Baelish whispered in her ear; holding her as she cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah....you couldn't really think that Tommen would spare Arya. However, no matter how much you hate me right now...its not over.
> 
> Arya is a fighter.


	104. Chapter 104

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! So I must say that I am super excited for this chapter. Mainly because we get to see Baelish in action and I LOVE that side of him. His intelligence and scheming always makes me....well.....it makes me love him.
> 
> Also, shout out to my new beta! I greatly appreciate everything you've done thus far!

Baelish's handwriting had always been elegant. Words of business scrawled across the parchment, which dictated the game. This was how he moved pieces. Words: words were his weapon in both ink and voice. He had always known that words would be far more deadly than the sword. Words could do far more damage than a simple sword. Baelish knew this and the moment Arya spoke of Cersei's affair with Jaime, Baelish knew that there would be more damage done than her death sentence.

Theories and stories spread like wildfire, mere moments after Arya was sent back to the Black Cells to await her execution date. Tommen sat there listening to the whispers of the court until he couldn't take it anymore. Suddenly, doubt was in the court's mind about Tommen's birth. No longer did people feel the false sense of sadness about Cersei's death. The idea that people became saints in death no longer applied with the rumor of her infidelity that was spreading.

Whispers followed Tommen, Myrcella and Jaime as they walked through the Red Keep. Jaime was attacked at the gates of the Red Keep by members of the lower class. While he was gifted with a sword, once disarmed, no one would be able to take on an angry mob. Jaime has since vanished to the edge of the city. Myrcella eventually locked herself away in her chambers refusing to come out because there were a few times she found herself alone with someone of less than honorable intentions. It wasn't clear what happened to her, but Tommen had rounded up the troublemakers and arrested them for assault on his sister. Tommen held his head up high and ignored everything else. Olyvar had learned from Loras that the King was hoping the whispers and “false accusations” from a murder would pass. However, Margaery was worried.

Baelish planned to use Margaery's fear to his advantage. The common people were already displeased with the throne due to the fragile financial state the Seven Kingdoms were in but to learn that their king might not belong on the throne infuriated them. Baelish couldn't help but notice the increase of guards surrounding Tommen and his wife. Margaery's fear centered around the idea of a rebellion and what would happen to her position and person if they were forcefully removed from the throne. This idea was what Baelish planned to use against her.

It wouldn't be hard to bring down Tommen and those who supported him. The Tyrells would be a casualty but in the end they really wouldn't matter. However, Baelish really didn't want to ruin the throne just yet. All of his years of patience, scheming and sacrifices would be for nothing. He always had one goal and Arya's slip of tongue could have cost him everything. However, her timing wasn't horrible and Baelish was one who could work with anything that was handed to him.

Sansa wanted her sister to live because she has lost the majority of her family and he refused to allow that to happen again. One way or another, he was going to save Arya no matter how furious he was with her. She had been foolish and if she had only taken his advice, they wouldn't have found themselves in this situation. Yet, Arya and Sansa were two very different people. Sansa was logical and was molded perfectly for politics. She knew how to play the game and was patient enough to win. He saw it in her from the very first moment he laid eyes on her.

Arya was completely different. She was too impulsive to play this game. He tried to mold her as well but she was to wild. The North was so strong in her that she was too impatient. He knew that now. She would be useful for something. Give her a name; a target and she would be able to execute efficiently if she has more training. Baelish tried to train her but it wouldn't be possible in this environment. She needed to be removed from King's Landing and trained somewhere else. That is what Baelish planned to do.

“Lord Baelish?” Baelish looked up from his stack of papers and saw Olyvar standing at the doorway. Olyvar always knocked but he must not have heard him. Normally, Olyvar never entered without permission when Sansa was in the brothel for he could easily be walking into something he wished he hadn't seen. However, Sansa was at their chambers resting. Her pregnancy was increasing and soon she would be delivering their child. Maester Reedman assures that Sansa would go into labor in this moon cycle which pleased Baelish. “She is here.”

“Thank you. Send her in.” Olyvar nodded and turned to head out the door. Baelish leaned back in his chair and folded his fingers together. He crossed his legs and perched his clenched hands on his knee, and waited. It was only a few seconds before he heard a cross voice echoing down the hall and into his solar. This caused him to smirk in satisfaction. Yes. He wanted her irritated. She breezed past Olyvar and narrowed her eyes at Baelish. “Lady Olenna, I'm pleased you could join me. Welcome back to King's Landing.”

“I find it quite vexing that the second I am through the gates of the city your men accost me and drag me to your brothel, Baelish.” Olenna snapped in frustration. She appeared hassled, annoyed and exhausted. Traveling from the Reach is easier than other portions of Westeros but still exhausting. Baelish considered leaving her to rest for a time but he wanted to speak with her before Margaery had time to whisper her side of the story.

“I find myself with an urgent matter on my hands that I need your assistance with. I find that I am short on time and needed to speak with you as soon as possible.” Baelish smirked at her and waved his hand toward the vacant chair on the opposite side of the desk. However, Olenna ignored the invitation and stood still with her arms crossed; her fingers tapping on her arm in annoyance. Olenna was not a woman who took being summoned well. She had her pride. She was the one who summoned those to her, not the other way around.

“I'm not here to fix your problems.”

“No. I would assume you're here to see your granddaughter.” While Olenna tolerated her grandson Loras, Margaery was the pride in her eyes. Olenna saw so much of herself in Margaery. Loras wasn't a complete disappointment but he was irrelevant. She cared not for his actions or the fact that he preferred to bed men because he wasn't the heir and he wasn't as clever as his sister. Willas Tyrell was the heir to Highgarden and would take his father's place when Mace Tyrell passed. Margaery was beautiful and intelligent; her value became paramount when she became Queen. Loras was the second son and free to do as he pleased. “My sister in law is currently rotting in the Black Cells because of Margaery.”

“Queen Margaery.” Olenna snapped quickly, correcting Baelish who knew he was speaking out of turn. He had always referred to Margaery as the Queen but suddenly Baelish felt less than charitable towards her. He remembered the first time he met her when he collected taxes from Highgarden and was intrigued. He found her beautiful and her mind was sharp. He knew that King Robert was keen on finding his son a bride and he felt Margaery would be perfect to keep that psychopath at bay. However, he was going to have to win over the matriarch of the Tyrell family in order to make in plans be set in motion.

“Queen Margaery, my apologies.” Baelish quickly added with a smirk. His grey-green eyes trailed over Olenna and took in her frustrated appearance. She wore her typical light blue headdress and was covered head to toe; only her face showing through. She was even wearing while gloves to cover her hand. She was an older woman and in the back of his mind, Baelish wondered if she was a beauty in her younger years. From tales he heard, her beauty would have rivaled Cersei’s. Yet, it was never her looks that brought Baelish to her in need of her help. It was her mind.

Olenna had always been one of the smartest and quick witted people he had the pleasure of meeting. His time in Highgarden was valuable and he was able to shape parts of his game from that one visit. He had always felt that he had earned the Tyrells’ favor for the time being and they in return won his. He put Margaery on the throne and they conspired together to kill King Joffrey. Now, he wondered if bring them into his game was wise. Olenna had too much on him now and could easily ruin everything he worked for if she set her mind to it. If it had been any other circumstances, he would have let Olenna and her alone because one day soon they wouldn’t be able to use anything against him. Yet, things have changed and he didn’t have the time to waste. Yet, he had one thing against Olenna that he knew she would risk anything for.

Margaery.

“It is my understanding that Arya Stark is rotting in the Black Cells awaiting execution for assassinating the King’s mother. That is a terrible offense. I do not see how I can help you with that.” Baelish didn’t appreciate the smug tone of her voice. It was clear that she was enjoying seeing him squirm, as she would any man. “I would advise that you and your wife wash your hands of Lady Stark and move on. It is a blessed thing that your wife has the Queen’s favor. I’m certain that the King in time will move on as well, leaving the two of you not seeing the repercussions.”

“Do you by chance know why Arya killed the Queen Mother?” Olenna’s eyes narrowed and Baelish knew the real reason why she was in King’s Landing. It wasn’t a simple family visit. It was for a scolding. She knew that Margaery was behind convincing Arya to murder the Queen Mother. While it was not that fact that the murder took place or Margaery’s involvement that bothered her, it was how sloppy it was done. There was no backup plan and no scape goat. Not only that but it was obvious that because of those actions, the Tyrells were about to make a very powerful enemy if things weren’t fixed. Margaery didn’t see the consequences but Olenna certainly did. “Did you know that Margaery was the one who convinced Arya to kill her?”

“I’m sure Arya had her own motives.” Olenna waved her hand as though she was trying to distract Baelish from Margaery’s involvement. “It is funny how rumors reach far and wide. The story traveled to Highgarden at an alarming rate. The talk of incest, adultery and murder reached my ears. Learning that Jaime and Cersei were sharing a bed wasn’t surprising. Nor was the idea that Cersei murdered the young Brandon Stark. I was surprised at the anger of the people against the throne because of the idea that Tommen is illegitimate. I was surprised at Jaime Lannister’s flight into hiding. I was surprised that Arya actually killed Cersei.”

“Yes, yes, yes. All of that is shocking, certainly. However, I think you’re ignoring that fact that Margaery was involved and had motivation to have Cersei killed. Did you know that Cersei was feeding Margaery moon tea and was preventing her from conceiving?” The look of surprise on Olenna’s face was brief but Baelish caught it. Olenna didn’t know that small fact. If Margaery was unable to conceive an heir, then her position as Queen was fragile; a fact that Cersei was well aware of. “She brought the anger towards the throne herself. If she had just let Cersei’s interference alone, stopped drinking the moon tea, then none of this would have happened.”

“Margaery is still Queen. She’ll conceive an heir soon enough and the people will calm down.” Olenna snapped. Normally that would be true but Baelish has worked hard to ensure that the common people don’t calm down. He wants them angry enough to rebel. It is what he had been working towards since the very beginning. Chaos is a ladder. “I don’t see how I can be any help to you. Arya got caught, Margaery did not. End of story. Arya will be executed and Margaery will still be Queen.” Baelish leaned back in his chair for a moment, letting the silence fester. After a moment, he smirked and gave a small chuckle. “I don’t see how this is funny whoremonger.”

“Do you remember the first time we met? At Highgarden? You impressed me.” Baelish pushed himself from his chair and moved around his desk. He perched on the edge of it and crossed his arms. “I find that most people don’t process a decent amount of intelligence. When I met your son I found myself interacting with an idiot, no offense, of course. You however, were far more intelligent than most and I must say that your granddaughter possess that same intellect, so I must blame her age for making the foolish mistake of having Arya murder Cersei. The young make many mistakes; even Sansa with all her cunning and political moves makes mistakes. A product of their age I must say.”

“What is the point of this, Lord Baelish? I would like to speak to my grandchildren today if possible.” Olenna snapped. She was uncomfortable and Baelish knew it. He had her where he wanted her. Everyone had a weakness. His was Sansa and their child. For Olenna, it was her grandchildren. Baelish knew that the moment he met her and knew that he could play on that weakness.

“Do you remember the agreement we made? That day we met? I was in Highgarden collecting taxes for King Robert. You invited me to play a few games of chess. I beat you if I recall, at one game while you won the other. Evenly matched I would say?” He chuckled again, enjoying this moment. “However, I’m getting side tracked. I’m talking about the agreement we had, that I would put Margaery on the throne as long as I had Highgarden behind me.”

“You made that deal with my son, not me. He wanted Margaery to be Queen.”

“I did say your son is an idiot.” Baelish replied, brushing off her comment. “True, I made the promise to Mace Tyrell that I would be able to put Margaery on the throne but if you remember, I made you a promise as well. Do you remember?” Olenna didn’t reply and Baelish had his answer. “King’s Landing is a dangerous place. Did we not kill Joffrey together? Was that not holding up my end of the deal? Is she not still Queen? Living a pampered life?” Olenna said nothing so Baelish pressed forward. “Now, you remember what your end of the deal was, correct?”

“I knew Joffrey was a monster. I knew what Margaery would endure if she married him. Was she not beaten? Did Joffrey not force himself on her? Do you call that protection?” Olenna snapped back. “My son didn’t see that. He couldn’t see past the idea of his daughter being Queen. The Tyrell blood mixed with royalty he said. He didn’t see the damage that would come to Margaery. He didn’t care”

“I promised to keep her alive and on the throne. I never said that no harm would come to her. The devil is in the details.” Baelish crossed his legs and leaned farther onto the desk. “I still am upholding my end of the deal. You on the other hand are not holding yours. You stated that I would have the resources and needs of the Reach behind me; that if I ever needed your assistance, then you would do everything in your power to do what needs to be done. You owe me Olenna and I’m collecting.”

“And what if I refuse you?” Olenna asked, looking Baelish directly in the eye. He raised an eyebrow in question. He knew that Olenna wasn’t going to give in easily. She was going to fight and he was prepared for whatever refusal she offered. She was going to help him whether she liked it or not. “What if I simply let Arya Stark die? What consequences would I face?”

“You would lose everything.” The reply was simple but it was enough to gage the older woman’s attention. “I am a very powerful man. I have worked very hard to get in the position that I am in today. Your granddaughter crossed me the moment she sought out my family to satisfy her vendetta.” He pushed off the desk then and strolled toward Olenna who seemed frozen in place. He gave her a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. His eyes were dark and Olenna had never seen such pit of darkness before. She knew that Baelish was a dangerous man but she only began to realize just how far he would go to achieve what he wanted. “If Arya Stark dies then so does Margaery and I will do nothing to stop it.”

“You mean you’d kill her?” Olenna huffed as though she disbelieved him. Baelish had a reputation of washing his hands from lose ends. Olenna had thought that Arya was nothing more than a loose end to him, and would cut ties with her. “You would kill my granddaughter over a foolish mistake? I thought you to be far more intelligent than that Baelish.”

“I never said I would kill her. No. I will do nothing. I will do nothing as my wife rages war against those who took the last living member of the Stark family.” The realization began to hit the older woman and Baelish could see it in her eyes. She had met Sansa and knew what she was like. “Sybil Westerling died because she hired a hit on Robb Stark, causes his death and that of Ned Stark's in the process. Theon Greyjoy was murdered because the killed Catelyn and Rickon Stark. What do you think Sansa will do if Arya is dead?”

Olenna said nothing but simply look at Baelish with distain. Yet, Baelish could see the logic working behind her sharp eyes. She wasn't a fool. She could read people as well as Baelish. She may only play the game when she is forced to but she was an adept player at that. Olenna preferred to sit back at Highgarden and let the court game conduct itself. She was only brought into the game when Baelish made the pact with Mace Tyrell to put Margaery on the throne. Olenna entered the game only to protect her favorite grandchild. She left King's Landing only after Margaery became Queen saw that she was protected. Now she traveled from the Reach again, when she heard that Margaery was in danger.

“No response?” Baelish chimed in again. “Well let me explain it to you. I will sit back and watch as my wife plots and schemes against Margaery. They were friends, but it was Margaery's actions that put Sansa's sister on the execution block. To Sansa their friendship is null and void and that seems to be a fair game. Sansa has the North behind her. Her uncle is Lord Paramount of the Trident and as long as Robin Arryn lives and breathes I am Lord Protector of the Vale.” Baelish reached out and plucked an invisible piece of lint off of her gown and tossed it aside. “Sansa will have the common people rise and revolt, for they're very angry already. She will overthrow the throne. Sansa will put Margaery's head on a chopping block but not until she executes her husband, and then Loras. And then once both of your grandchildren are dead, she'll take over the Crownlands and moved toward the Reach, burning it to the ground.”

“I don't believe you.” Olenna's voice lacked her usual luster. “I don't think you'll sit back at all.” Now she gave a small laugh and Baelish knew he won. Everyone had a weakness and Olenna's was her grandchildren. “I've met your wife and she is a fearsome thing to behold. She would do everything you described and more. However, I fully believe that you would be standing besides her causing as much chaos as possible. The two of you are made for each other.” Olenna closed her eyes, accepting the reality. “You know, I might have helped you if you didn't drag me here.”

“No you wouldn't have.”

“You're right. I would have let Arya Stark die but made sure Margaery's hands were clean.” She turned away and walked toward the window that looked out onto a small pavilion that was connected to the brothel. She could see one of Baelish whores seducing an influential member of court. The whore took him by the hand and brought him inside. This was how Baelish learned his secrets and it was amazing that no one took notice before. Baelish was powerful and she would be a fool to go against him. “What would you have me do? Tommen won't spare her. Even if Margaery can get her out, she won't be able to stay in King's Landing.”

“I know. No amount of seduction will convince King Tommen to spare the woman who killed his mother but Margaery has influence. She'll think of something.” Baelish walked back towards his desk and sat down behind it. He picked up a quill and began to write, finishing a few lines. His eyes flickered up again to see that Olenna was still gazing out the window. “Arya is set for execution the day after tomorrow. There isn't much time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, good old blackmail. Got to love it. 
> 
> I wanted to bring up the agreement Olenna made with Baelish when he collected the taxes for the Reach. I hope you all are taking notice how often I've been bringing that up. It's important. Baelish has been playing a LONG game. I don't want to brag but I put a good amount of time and effort planning the moves he would make when drafting this story.
> 
> Its why it is so freaking LONG.


	105. Chapter 105

Chapter One-Hundred and Five

Drip. Drip. Drip. The sound of water falling from the cell’s ceiling continued to hit the ground. Five hundred and sixty-seven drops, Arya counted. It was the only thing keeping her sane. Many said that people go mad in the Black Cells and now she could understand that. She understood why they were called the Black Cells; for she could see nothing but darkness. Many times she stretched her hand out in front of her but she saw nothing. The darkness consumed her and Arya was at the point where she simply let it.

While the darkness was numbing, it amazed how she was already used to feeling nothing at all. She closed her eyes; for it was the only time she was able to see anything at all. She imagined Lancel Lannister's skin color change as he was swung from the banister in his chambers but there was nothing inside her that cared. She remembers Ser Meyrn Trant's features but felt nothing. She remembered how cold Tywin Lannister's eyes were but she felt nothing. She saw Theon's face as the bile spilled out of his mouth. Nothing. She felt Cersei's blood run over her hand as she cut off her face but still, there was nothing. Her kills meant nothing to her. Their lives meant nothing.

But the kills meant everything at the same time. She realized that this was what she was meant for. She was meant to take lives and exchange them for something else. For what? She wasn't certain. She wracked her brain for what she was trading them for but she couldn't think of anything. There was something missing and she desperately wanted to find it. However, she knew that King Tommen wanted her head. The sadness that she would never find what she was searching for was the first emotion she felt since being thrown down in that dark cell.

It was the first thing she felt since the relief of hearing Sansa screams, when she was sentenced to die. Hearing her own fate of death didn't faze her. She was more despaired at the thought that Sansa wasn't there to help her. For a brief moment, she had thought bitterly about the one family member she had left, and had abandoned her. In a moment of anger, she cursed ever saving Sansa that night in the Godswood, and then she felt guilty for the thought. When Tommen handed down her execution and then she heard Sansa's scream of pain, Arya felt relieved. She wasn't alone after all.

Arya shivered. She was cold. There were no blankets in the black cells. There were no forms of comfort. Beyond the sounds of the dripping water, it was silent. Arya wondered if this was what Sansa felt that night she laid in the fallen snow, waiting for her death. Yet, Arya wouldn't die alone in the Godswood. She would die in the warmth of the sun in King's Landing with a thousand eyes looking at her. Her name would go down in history as the young girl who killed the queen. Songs would be sung for her and stories would be written about her.

Some part of Sansa would be proud of that. Sansa was the last Stark and deep down Arya always knew that she would be. Her parents were too good and too noble to survive in such a cruel world. Robb was too foolish and righteous. Bran and Rickon were too innocent. Jon was simply gone, his location unknown and Arya would never see him again. This world consumed them and spit them out. Arya had thought she was stronger, darker and capable of handling the game. She had thought she found her place. She was wrong. She didn't belong in King's Landing. She failed; but Sansa wouldn't. Sansa was the strongest of them all. She was a survivor. She would do want needed to be done in order to protect herself, her husband and her children. She would have protected Arya too but Arya realized that she was too foolish. She was too rash. No amount of Sansa's protection would save her now.

Her thoughts continued along the lines of her demise. She dreamed of Winterfell and the days when things were easier. She dreamed of her innocence. Her dreams became so vivid that when she heard the familiar creek of the wooden door locking her in her cell open, she had thought she envisioned it. There was a flicker of light that seemed too bright compared to the darkness she had grown accustomed to. The light grew closer and closer until she realized that someone was carrying it. The figure came close and bent down, hovering over her. A hand reached out to touch her face.

“Sansa?” Arya whispered, her voice croaking from lack of use. The hand gripped her cheek and it was warm. It was the only warmth she had felt since the King's Guard ripped her from her sister's arms. She had thought that the bone chilling cold would consume her. To feel that warm was as though she was feeling of life again. “How are you here?”

“Come with me.” The woman held out her hand and Arya quickly grasped it. She wasn't sure if this was a dream or a hallucination but she had no other option. There was no point in fighting such a dream. If her sister had come save her, even in her dreams, Arya wanted nothing more than to take that hand. So, the woman pulled her up and wrapped her arms around her. Arya leaned into her while the taller woman helped her walk.

“Where are we going?” Arya asked as she was led to the door of her cell. Her breath was heavy and she felt a tight feeling in her chest alongside a sharp pain. She didn't realize how weak she was and how long she had been down there. Her legs wobbled from lack of use and her stomach growled deeply from hunger. She couldn't recall the last time she had food in her system or had a drink of water. She could feel that her lips were cracked from being so dry.

“Away from here” Arya blinked as they moved through the dirty corridor and Arya could hear the moans of the other prisoners. Their voices grew louder for they could see the torch passing their cells. The light also hurt her eyes for she was not used to the light. They were silent for a while, for Arya didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t think of anything. There were no words of gratitude on her mind because she wasn’t sure if this was real yet or if some delusion, come to plague her while she rotted away. They continued to move as quickly as her feet would allow her to. She looked forward down the corridor and could see that there was a door at the end. However, there was light but not bright. It was moonlight. It was nighttime and the moon was full.

“The King is never going to let me stay in King's Landing. I killed his mother. I shall die for such treason.” This was the first time she had said her fate aloud. While she had thought of very little else since she was arrested, she had never heard the words leave her lips. Then again, she hadn’t been speaking much of anything as of late. Spending all of her time in a dark cell was not the most inclusive for holding a conversation with one’s self. Realizing that this was the first kind of interaction she had in a long while, Arya gripped the woman tighter; grateful to feel some warmth.

“You’ll die, certainly. As will we all but hopefully you won’t for a long time; and when you do, it won’t be in King’s Landing.” Arya’s brow creased in confusion. What could she possibly mean? Not in King’s Landing? Where was she going? She had always assumed that she would be spending the rest of her days in the capitol. Even before she murdered Cersei, Arya had thought she would live with Sansa and her family. She had thought she would watch Sansa’s children grow. The idea of leaving King’s Landing never occurred to her unless it was to go to the Riverlands once Harrenhal was completed. Is that where she was going? Could it be possible that Sansa and Baelish were also leaving? Baelish had always talked of having an exit strategy incase his life and the lives of Sansa and their child was in danger. Is this what this was? An escape not just for her, but for the last of the Stark blood as well?

The pair reached the end of the long corridor and the moonlight shined brighter. Arya blinked several times, her eyes not used to such brightness. Mentally, she was grateful that it wasn't daylight out because she wasn’t sure if her eyes would be able to handle such light. They burned and it took great strength to keep them open; but she forced herself to do just that. She could see that they were at the edge of the castle and outside. Arya wasn’t paying enough attention to where they were going to notice any twist or turns that they had made. She knew that her feet had carried her some distance and that they hurt but she assumed it was from the lack of use. She hadn’t thought of where they were going but the idea that the tunnel they had taken went directly to the outdoors never occurred to her. The last time she was pulled from her cell was for her trial and the guards dragged her to the throne room. While thinking back, she realized that they indeed had taken a different route and one that was a bit longer. Once her feet touched the soft sand, a feeling that was far better than the jagged stone of the tunnel, Arya began to exhale. She was at the docks and there were ships all around. She looked up and saw the Red Keep standing tall and proud.

“Pick a ship. Any ship and leave. Never come back.” Arya had briefly forgotten who rescued her and her eyes snapped from the Red Keep toward the woman. The moonlight was bright enough for Arya to see those bright eyes gazing at her. The woman’s hood was still atop of her head but her face was clear enough. It wasn’t Sansa. Sansa hadn’t saved her.

It was Margaery.

“Your Grace?” Arya had thought that Margaery had left her die. The Queen had asked her to kill her mother in law and Arya hated Cersei enough to do it. She had thought that Margaery had no more use for her. Arya could easily condemn her if their scheme ever came to light. She had thought about betraying Margaery, claiming that the Queen hired her, but thought that King Tommen wouldn’t believe her. Now she was glad she didn’t because it was clear that Margaery wouldn’t be here otherwise.

“You need to leave. Take a ship and leave.” Margaery turned and reached towards a bush. There she pulled out a satchel and was clearly filled with items. She tossed it towards Arya who grabbed it quickly. Inside were clothing, some of her belongings, and some food. Next, Margaery handed her something she never thought she would see again. Needle. Arya took the sword quickly. The feeling of Needle in her hand again was like a fresh breath of life inside of her. “Pick a ship. Any ship and never let us hear from you again.” A carriage appeared at the top of the hill and a figure stepped out. At first Arya had thought that it was the King but soon enough it was obviously Loras, the Queen’s brother. Margaery turned to walk away, clearly impatient not to be seen with Arya. Loras was here to retrieve her quickly.

“Wait!” Arya cried out. Margaery stopped and turned. She huffed in frustration and gave Arya a look that told her she needed to be quick. At first she wanted to thank the Queen for saving her but any form of gratitude failed to be spoken. Instead Arya could only think of one thing. “Why?”

“Because your brother in law is a terrifying man” With that, Margaery turned on her heels, leaving Arya behind. She watched as Margaery made her way towards her brother and got in the carriage with him. The carriage drove off and Arya was once again alone. After a moment of contemplation, Arya dropped her bag to the ground and fell to her knees. She began searching the bag quickly, pulling an apple out to eat in order to sooth her raging stomach and a dark cloak, one that would hide her easily. When she yanked the cloak out of the bag, she accidentally knocked something else out. Arya reached down and picked it up out of the sand.

A coin.

Suddenly, Arya knew exactly where she was going.

She dressed quickly, throwing the cloak over her shoulders and placing Needle on her hip. She threw the bag over her shoulder and hurriedly made her way towards the docks. It was all but deserted, with only a few people about. She passed several people who did not seem like the friendliest of people. None of them paid her any mind, for she kept her hood up and her face from view. She didn’t believe that anyone would recognize her because her trial was only open to members of the court but she couldn’t be too sure.

As she walked, she wasn’t sure what each ship was going and realized she needed to find out; but the question she asked herself was how; and then she saw him. Maester Reedman. He was attending to a man who seemed to have met a nasty end. A body was being carried on board and blood was leaving a trail behind it. The Maester was cleaning his bloody hands off with a rag and had a grim expression on his face. Arya watched as he talked with a man, shook his head and toss the rag aside. She waited until the other man left and the Maester was alone. Arya walked over slowly to him, in hopes not to startle him. Scaring a man late at night, at the docks was no a wise course of action; no matter who the man was.

“Bloody drunken fisherman, it’s never wise to mix hook and mead.” The Maester muttered in frustration. It was clear to Arya that he wanted to save him but simply wasn’t able to. As he reached down to pick up his satchel, Arya reached out and touched his shoulder. He jumped and turned quickly. Arya let down her hood far enough to show her face. The Maester’s face was that of surprise, his eyes widened at the sight of her and his eyes quickly darted around. “What are you doing here? How are you here?”

“Baelish.”

“Of course he would find a way to break you out of your cell. He is too intelligent for his own good.”

“I need your help.”

“No. No. No. No. I will do a lot for Lord Baelish because I value my head and I actually care for the welfare of his girls but you’re set to die. If the King learns I helped you, my head will end up on a spike.” The Maester said quickly. “Look, I don’t know if you killed the Queen Mother or not.” Arya went to answer him but he held up his hand to silence her. “And I don’t want to know, but there is a time and place to helping those who need it. King’s Landing is dangerous and court is far worse. I’m a kind man but I also want to stay alive.”

“I just need a question answered. All you have to do is nod and point.” The Maester still didn’t look convinced. Instead he looked as though he was just going to turn away and disappear. Arya needed to hurry. “Look, if I die my sister will be very upset. My brother-in-law will do anything to prevent that from happening. What do you think he will do if he learns that you refused to help me?” Blackmail. She hadn’t lived with Sansa and Baelish for a while to learn absolutely nothing. This convinced the Maester to help her. “Are any of the ships sailing to Bravos?” The Maester nodded. “Where?”

“Three ships down. Ask for Masques. He’s the captain.” He looked around quickly as though he was terrified someone would see him with her. If they did, she still had her hood up and would be unrecognizable. “That’s all I can tell you.” He refused to say anymore. He bent down and picked up his satchel and turned away. Arya was tempted to call out again and demand more information or to pass a message to Sansa for her; but she held back. She knew her sister respected this man but more importantly, she needed him. The child Sansa carried needed him. Arya wouldn't risk the chances of him being in conversation any longer.

Arya watched him disappear and she quickly made her way towards the ship he pointed out. He counted them and quickly found the one that would be sailing towards Bravvos. The ship was large, just like all the others but it was the only one that seemed to be preparing to sail. It was too late to set sail but Arya assumed that they must be getting ready to sail at first light. She smiled and fingered that coin again. It felt like fate.

Her decision was made so she quickly made her way towards the ship. She passed a few men, stopping one and asked for Masques. The man pointed him out and she walked toward the man. He was middle aged, older than her father had been but younger than Maester Luwin from Winterfell. He was dressed nicely but not as nice as those who lived at court. It was clear he did well from himself but his style rivaled Syrio Forel's than any gentlemen at court. His hair was greying and had a slight curl to it.

“I want a place on your ship.” Arya stated in a firm tone. It caught the man off guard and looked around. At first, he didn't see her for Arya was far shorter than he was. After a second he looked down. She pulled her hood back enough to show her face. His eyes searched her and she could see a hint of recognition there. He knew who she was. He knew why she would want to leave. Arya didn't know if she should be pleased or concerned about his knowledge. It could help her or harm her. Would he turn her in and Baelish's efforts to help her escape would be for nothing.

“No. You don't.” Arya cursed in her mind but at least he wasn't sending someone to the castle yet. She looked over her shoulder back at the Red Keep. Masques moved away from her but she quickly followed. She wasn't going to let a simple 'no' stop her yet. She needed to leave and if that meant she had to sneak on the ship and hide, she would do it.

“I can pay.”

“There is nothing on this ship for you. You best find someone to take you North, Lady Stark.” Arya shivered. Not many people had ever called her Lady Stark before. She had always associated the name with her late mother and on rare occasions a few Northern men would refer to Sansa as Lady Stark before she was married; but it rarely ever was applied to Arya. Perhaps she was too wild. Yet, hearing this man call her by something that reminded her of her mother caused her to be surprised.

“I don't want to go North. I won't need a cabin and I won't take up much room.” He didn't seem to be budging but he wasn't getting annoyed with her. Most people would be sending someone to get a constable to arrest her. However, he just went about his business; like he didn't care that a woman marked for death because she murdered the Queen Mother was asking for a place on his ships. Arya realized that many people must have wanted to escape from their fate. Arya wasn't the first. “Please. I could work. I would scrub the floors.”

He picked up his scrolls and placed them in a bag. He swung the bag over his shoulder and began to walk away, clearly done with the conversation. In that moment she felt as though H'ghar was standing beside her because his voice was so clear. The coin. Show him the coin. Arya pulled it out quickly and chased after Marques, calling his name. He stopped, surprised that she knew his name for he had not expected that. In the back of her mind she made a note to thank the Maester if she ever saw him again.

“I have something else.”

“Knowing my name and silver won't make a difference.”

“It’s not silver. Its iron” Marques looked down at the coin and his face completely changed. It turned to shock and awe. His eyes were glued to the coin and eventually, he raised them to Arya. He knew what this coin was and what it meant; more so than Arya. H'ghar was an assassin, that she knew but she suddenly wondered if he was much more. Arya realized that she was in for more than she expected. Part of her was scared but she had no other choice. She would be hunted and leaving Westeros was the safest course.

“This....how did you...”

“Valar Morghulis.”

“Valar dohaeris” he replied nodding “ Of course. Welcome to Iris. You shall have a cabin.” Marques held out his free hand towards the ship. He grabbed her bag and carried the tiny bit of belongings she had. Arya smiled at him and walked slowly towards the ship. He followed close behind and allowed Arya to climb up the plank to board the ship first. The only time she had been on a ship was when the boarded one in the Vale to sail to King's Landing. She had some difficulty climbing but he helped her. Once boarded, he led her to the back of the ship. “This is my cabin and you shall sleep here. If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you.” She hadn't expected him to give her his cabin. She was more than willing to share down in the hull with the other crew members. She was willing to work but from the sounds of the captain's tone, he wouldn't hear of it. She was his guest and whatever that coin meant, clearly was important to the men from Bravos. If the entire crew was made of men from Bravos, perhaps for the first time Arya would feel what it was like to be a princess. That was something she never thought she would experience.

“Of course and rest assured that if any knights come in to search for you, they will not find you. For you are not on this ship.” He bowed his head and closed the door behind him; leaving Arya alone. She looked out the window and it was dark; only the moonlight hitting the water. This was the last glance she would get of King' Landing and Westeros. It was the last time she would ever set foot on this soil. She was leaving it all behind.

Arya was leaving Sansa behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I know some of you saw this coming. I had always felt that Bravvos was Arya's destiny and I wanted her to still end up there in this story. While I LOVE the relationship I've built between Arya and Sansa in this story, I feel that Arya needs to be away from the Baelish's in order to grow. While Petyr would always be able to nurture her and mold her, she needs to become her own person and Bravvos does that. 
> 
> In the very beginning, like before I posted the first chapter, I had this chapter in mind. Originally it was Sansa who saved Arya and Margaery simply opened the tunnel door; allowing Sansa to get in without the guards noticing. I had this entire conversation in my head between Margaery and Sansa. They talked about Joffrey and how he would use this tunnel to torture animals and children. I had this picture of skulls and corpses lingering against the stone walls. Unfortunately, it made no sense for Sansa to be there due to her advanced condition AND Tommen would be having her and Baelish guarded in case they attempted to break Arya out. I just couldn't find a way for that conversation to happen....sadly. 
> 
> Either way, I hope you all enjoyed it and reviews are always welcome.


	106. Chapter 106

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm back.
> 
> So I just want to say, that I'm super happy with this chapter.

Chapter One Hundred and Six

It was silent. The entire night had been. It was as though they moved in slow motion and nothing else mattered. Their bodies went about their daily business but their minds were elsewhere. They hardly spoke to one another but it wasn’t out of anger or some disagreement. It was just that what they wanted to speak of was best not said aloud. The silence engulfed them and neither of them was willing to break it. Their eyes would meet for a second, ice and green, both knowing what was on the mind of the other. Yet, they had servants and it wasn’t wise to speak, for the fear of their words being whispered outside their chambers. Gold may buy silence but it is truly bought by those who give the most gold.

Baelish was one who always paid the most and with Cersei gone, it wasn’t clear to whom the servants would run to if they were indeed spying on Lord and Lady Baelish. The only plausible player would be the Tyrells for all the other worthy opponents were either gone or dead; mostly because of either Baelish or Sansa. The game was coming to an end and they both could feel it; even if Baelish was the only one who knew the particulars. Sansa knew her husband well enough to know that he always was planning something; and in this case, it would change everything. So Sansa would allow Margaery to believe she won. She would allow the Tyrells to believe that they are the superior family for both Margaery and Loras had thought that they had the throne in their hands; despite the tension building in Westeros.

The game still played on of course; it just wasn’t the members of court anymore. The small folk and the peasants were getting involved. They were getting restless. The taxes were high and they were struggling to feed their families. They blamed the throne for these tragedies. Once Arya spoke of Tommen’s true parentage, they grew even angrier. They called Tommen a false king. Jaime fled the city but Tommen sat on his throne oblivious to it all; as did those who thought they controlled him. Margaery always prided herself for being the champion of the small folk however they didn’t really matter to her. She was now Queen. She reached her life’s desire. Now that Cersei was gone, the world was at peace and both Baelish and Sansa counted on that peace. For they knew at any second the King would become enraged; but seeing Tommen enraged was like seeing a small kitten unable to reach for his ball of yarn. 

Margaery had a firm hand on him and if Arya moved quickly, that rage might settle. It was a piece in the game Baelish hadn’t planned for but he knew the players and Tommen wasn’t one to remain angry; even when it came to the murder of his mother. In the end, he would feel hopeless and wouldn’t do anything. That was Baelish’s prediction but he could not rely on it, in case he was wrong.

Supper that night was silent for that one reason. There was so much at play and so much at risk that he couldn’t risk their servants hearing them confide in one another in case they run to the King. While Tommen would be angry that the woman who murdered his mother escaped, he would not blame those she was related to; unless he had proof that they were involved in her escape. He believed that those accused are innocent unless proven otherwise. He was a good man and that would be his down fall.

When they went to bed that night, the silence still hung in the air. Neither was willing to break it for they let themselves bask in the unknown. They shared looks that spoke more than any words could. Baelish reached for Sansa and worshipped her body. Other than their heavy breathing, neither whispered a single word. Sansa wasn't able to move as much as she used to so her husband had to put in all the work; but neither minded. Her stomach got in the way for most of the conventional positions so it caused them to experiment.

Afterwards Sansa lingered in Baelish's arms, his fingers tracing invisible lines on her arm. The silence was bliss until everything they had been waiting for came crashing down. They knew it was coming because it had to. So they lay in their bed until the pounding on their door came. In the back of Sansa's mind she almost giggled at home many times a Lannister man has banged at their door. Baelish got up from the bed and quickly dressed. Sansa moved to follow but he held out his hand to stop her.

“No. Stay. I'll take care of this.” Baelish was never one to hold his wife back, but in her current state, carrying his child, he found that he was more protective of her than before. Sansa scowled at him and ignored his request. By the time she was up and her nightgown back on, she could hear her husband already at the door.

“Where is she?!” Tommen's voice could be heard coming from the common room. Sansa sighed and hurried her dressing. She heard her husband’s smooth voice attempting to sound confused and weary. While it was true that none of them knew where Arya was, that was just part of the brilliant planning. Neither Petyr nor Sansa broke Arya out of her cell nor do they know where she went. It saddened Sansa that she could no longer reach out for her sister but at least she had the comfort of knowing that she is alive. “Where is she?!”

Sansa reached the common room to see her husband giving the King, who was standing tall and straight, a confused expression. Tommen stood there with a red face and angry eyes. Sansa had never seen him in such a state. She had seen him weak, sad and alone but never once had she seen him angry. She remembered the moment Tommen had caught her and her husband in an intimate embrace on the night they killed Joffrey. She remembered how sad and alone he seemed. He seemed so different from the man who stood before her. Perhaps becoming King would do that to a boy. Margaery was beside him, resting her hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him. The Queen pulled her night gown around her tightly causing Sansa to realize that they were both in their sleep attire.

“What is going on?” Her eyes darted between Baelish and Tommen; trying to appear as though she was oblivious to everything that had transpired in the night. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her husband sigh. He had really been hoping that she would have stayed in their bed chamber but he knew her well enough that she wouldn’t have. Telling Sansa to do anything she didn’t want to do was dangerous. “Your Grace, we didn’t expect such a pleasure.”

“I will ask again, where is she?”

“Who, Your Grace?”

“Don’t play dumb. You know.”

“My love, they don’t know what you’re talking about! They couldn’t have!” Margaery interjected in an exasperated tone. It was obvious that the two were arguing all the way down the corridor to the Baelish’s quarters. It was clear that Margaery had insisted that neither Sansa nor Baelish could have known what the King was accusing them of.

“Margaery, stay out of this!” Tommen hissed at her, his fist balling. If it had been any other man, Sansa might have thought he would strike his wife but everyone knew that Tommen wasn’t the abusive type. Margaery had been struck by Joffrey enough times to know when a man was abusive and cruel. She knew that Tommen would never lay a hand on her no matter how angry he was.

“I will not! I’ve told you that Lady Baelish is my friend and I know her. She wouldn’t do this! It isn’t possible!” Margaery hissed through clenched teeth. It wasn’t common for Tommen to fight back. He normally listened to everything his wife said and she wasn’t used to him defying her in any way. He always did as she pleased and now he was asking her to not involve herself.

“She is her sister. We all know how close they are!” Tommen snapped back, turning back to his wife. He missed the glance that Baelish and Sansa shared. They both wanted nothing more than to allow the two of them to have their row, taking the focus off of themselves. However, if they remained silent; that would be more suspicious than saying something. While it is normally better to keep the focus off of them, there are times where the circumstances warrant the opposite.

“Arya, what do you mean? Arya is in the black cells.” Sansa stated in a concerned and confused tone. The last she had been told was that her sister was still in the Black Cells. Her husband had told her that there would be an attempt to break her out; they didn't know the particulars but they knew it was coming. Baelish made it clear that they couldn't know the particulars, but that she must be extracted. “Your Grace, please. If there is something concerning my sister, tell me.”

“You really don't know.” Tommen seemed baffled at the thought. His eyes flickered towards her husband and then back. Baelish eyed the younger man; the surprise was evident in the King's eyes. Tommen was certain that Baelish at least would know. He knew that Baelish had allies and connections, and while Tommen liked to see the best in people, he knew what family meant. Arya was Baelish's family; so he would do anything to save her.

“Know what?”

“Arya is no longer in the Black Cells. She somehow escaped and has not yet been found.” Tommen looked at them both. Baelish didn't move but Sansa let out a small gasp and tears flowed down her cheeks. It wasn't an act. While both of them knew that there was a plan to break Arya out of prison, it was now confirmed from the King's lips. It was as though a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. If Arya remained at large then she wouldn't be executed. “And neither of you knew of this?”

“Of course they didn't.” Margaery huffed again. “You know that security at the Black Cells have been weak. I've been on you to focus on training the guards down there. Look at what happened with Theon Greyjoy and now it has happened again! Prisoners are escaping with no help from outside.” Tommen held up his hand to stop being interrupted, but Margaery simply rolled her eyes. “They didn't do it! I've been telling you this since you got the impossible idea! Where has Lord Baelish been all day?”

“That’s beside the point!”

“Was there not a Small Council meeting today?!”

“Yes, but-”

“And Sansa! Look at her!” Margaery waved her hand towards Sansa. “She is with child! She is due within the next moon cycle! What did she do? Waddle down to the Black Cells? How could she possibly help a prisoner escape in her condition?” Margaery leaned back and crossed her arms; giving her husband a very stern look that clearly stated that she wasn't pleased with him. “And besides, she was with me all day while you were attending to business. Unless you want to accuse me of allowing Arya Stark to go free?”

“Of course not my dear but they could have hired someone.” Tommen pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. He was so certain that Baelish had a hand in this. His grandfather had always told him to be weary of the man and his wife. He never understood why. Sansa had always been so kind; even when he was much younger and they spent those few weeks in Winterfell. He had thought she was going to be his sister one day. While he didn't necessarily have anything in common with Lord Baelish, he respected him. When Arya murdered his mother, he felt as though he couldn't blame the family for her actions. He learned that lesson from Joffrey. He knew is brother had committed horrendous acts long before he became king. He knew, as did Myrcella, that he had raped Sansa Stark; despite his mother's efforts to cover it up, placing blame on the young woman.

However, when the news that his mother's killer had been set free; his grandfather's voice rang in the back of his mind. He knew deep down that Baelish had something to do with it. There was no possible way for Arya to break out all on her own. She simply had to have had help and the one person who cared the most about Arya was her sister; and Baelish would do anything for Sansa.

Their relationship had always been a mystery to him. When the news broke that Sansa Stark had married Lord Petyr Baelish, Tommen had felt sorry for her. He, like everyone else, assumed it was due to her ruined reputation. They had thought that Lord Stark couldn't find another man to have her. It was rumored that Lord Harold Hardyng had turned down the offer of marriage Lord Stark had offered him. So, when he watched Baelish with his new bride; it was clear to him that their relationship was built on mutual affection and not just based on an arrangement made from her father. It seemed so strange to him but the night his brother married Margaery and he caught them in the hallway confirmed their devotion to one another. 

“If I may, Your Grace. You're more than welcome to interview anyone in my employ. I keep a record of everyone who is in my service.” It was true. Baelish kept records off all his servants and even most of the whores in the brothel. There were a few of course, such as Olyvar, who were off the books; for certain reasons. Then there were his spies. He never wrote down their names or how much he paid them. Some things are best left not put in ink. “I can give it to you now if you would like.”

Tommen thought on it for a moment; startled by the offer. He hadn't been expecting such an offer. Baelish would gladly hand over the list of his employees because they didn't know anything. None of them had anything to do with Arya and Baelish knew this. There were only six people who knew the extent of her escape. One, hopefully was on a ship and long gone, three were Tyrells and it was in their best interest to keep the king happy; the final two were Baelish and Sansa. None of those people were going to speak a word of the truth to anyone.

“No, but I'll be looking into it.” With that, Tommen turned on his heels and left the chamber. Margaery didn't move at first, instead she turned to face Baelish and Sansa. The frustration and irritation was gone from her features and was replaced by hesitation. She would have let Arya go to her execution because she couldn't risk herself being exposed to her husband. If Tommen ever learned that she was the one who manipulated Arya into killing his mother, she wondered how long she would have a head. Best case scenario, he would lock her in a tower and leave her there for the remainder of his days. However, when her grandmother told her of Baelish's blackmail, she believed that Baelish wouldn't stop until the Tyrells were stripped of everything. She only had one option. Help Arya Stark.

“This makes us even.” She wasn't looking at Sansa but at Baelish. Their eyes locked. It wasn't that she underestimated Sansa but Baelish would always be the bigger threat. With the snap of his fingers, Baelish could have everything come crumbling down around her. He orchestrated Joffrey's death without a second thought.

“For now”

“Sansa-”

“Get out.” There was malice in her tone. When Margaery had come to see her earlier, she had played nice. She knew that she had to. It was important that Margery be with Sansa to build an alibi; so she tolerated her presence. She knew that once the sun rose, Sansa would once again have to smile, curtsy and pretend to be her friend but both knew that it wouldn't be the way it once was. Each smile and giggle would be false and strained. They were no longer friends but instead pieces in the game. Yet, in that moment, Sansa didn't feel the need to be kind. She wanted Margaery out of her sight.

“Very well. Goodnight.” Margaery gracefully turned away and followed her husband down the hall. Baelish stepped forward and closed the door behind her. Sansa huffed and tears swelled up in her eyes. She turned and went back into their bedchamber. She heard the slight footsteps of her husband coming after her as she knew that he would.  
She made her way towards the window that looked out onto King's Landing. She had seen that view a thousand times but never without Arya. She knew that her sister would be fleeing the city and would never be able to set foot in it again. She had never felt so alone. Ever since that day in the Godswood, Arya had been by her side; even when she was cross with her. Sansa didn't know what it was like to live without her. She had no frame of reference to live by where her sister wasn't a part of her life. Now she had to find a way without Arya. At least she knew that her sister was alive and would survive; which was far better than dead.

Sansa wrapped her arms around herself as though she was attempting to hold herself together. It was a pose that she used often after Joffrey had raped her. She was just trying to continue breathing and at that time; it was so difficult. She had lost so many people in her life but that pain was nothing compared to the pain she felt that night and the years that came after. The loss of Arya was a close second. She loved all her family but Arya meant so much more to her. She was blood and she was her only sister. Parents and brothers are wonderful and loving but sisters, with the bond they shared was something more.

Baelish came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. Sansa leaned back into his embrace, basking in his comfort. At least she always had him. Baelish was unwavering. He would always be there. If he ran, so would she. If he died, so would she. There was no life without him. The loss of her family was devastating. The loss of her sister was earth shattering. The loss of her innocence torn her soul to shreds but the loss of Baelish was unimaginable. Sansa knew that it was one loss she would never recover from.

“I'll never see her again.”

“A lot can happen between now and never.” His tone was soft, the one he only used when he was alone with her. It wasn't husky like when he wanted to bed her or cunning when he was plotting the downfall of his enemies. This was a voice used for Sansa alone. She was certain that none of his other lovers had ever heard him speak in that tone. She was the first and the last. “One day, you'll see her again. It may not be tomorrow or the day after that but I promise you that your path will cross her's one day.”

“She won't be here for the birth of our child.” Tears streamed down her cheeks as her hand went to her growing girth. She could feel the child moving inside of her as though the child knew that it was being spoken of. Baelish placed his hand right beside hers in order to feel the child kick. “She was looking forward to that. Another person that she would have blood ties with.”

“She may not be here for the birth of this child but she'll know them all.” He kissed the top of her head again. “Things are coming Sweetling. Things are changing and soon everything will be different. It will be better for us, our child and Arya. All she has to do is survive until then. Once everything is over, I'll send for her.”

“I don't know what you're planning but once this is all over, how will we even know where she is.” Sansa turned in his arms and looked at him directly in the eyes. She had stopped asking questions about his master plan because she knew that he wouldn't tell her. Before it had irritated her but not that she was with child, she understood that his silence was to protect her. If she didn't know this and everything failed, she might be able to run free to care for their unborn child. “Will she go to Riverrun to be with Uncle Edmure?”

“I don't think so. The King surely will send guards there to search for her, but Arya is too smart for that. It is the obvious place. No. She'll go somewhere that we won't even think of.” Sansa furrowed her brow in confusion. She felt that she knew her sister better than anyone. She would realize where her sister was going. She had to. Baelish saw the look upon her face and smiled. “We all have secrets, even your sister. No one speaks of their deepest darkest secrets aloud.”

“I have. You know mine.” Baelish smiled a true smile at that. He reached down and took her hands in his and kissed them. His lips made contact with her skin and he squeezed tightly. He knew every ounce of her, inside and out. To him, she was the most beautiful creature who ever graced this world. “And one day, you'll tell yours. One day you'll never hide things from me again. Whatever burdens you, will burden me.”

“One day soon, I'll be honest. One day soon you'll know everything that I have worked for.” Baelish leaned in and kissed her lips. It was gentle and warm. The kiss was comforting and was welcomed. It wasn't a kiss of passion that is born when one needs to be with their lover. It was a kiss for those who wanted comfort and reassurance. Once they broke apart, Baelish moved his lips to her forehead to kiss her skin and hair. “When all this is over, I'll send men to find her.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said, I was really happy with this chapter. I felt that the characters were on point; with Tommen's anger, Margaery's frustration, irritation and manipulation but most of all, the clear bond between Sansa and Baelish and Sansa and her sister. I really hoped you enjoyed it! 
> 
> Review and let me know.


	107. Chapter 107

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I'm back! I can't believe how close we are to the end. It almost makes me sad!

Chapter One Hundred and Seven

When Baelish was attending to his duties, Sansa found that she spent a good amount of time alone. She would stroll through the gardens, alone with only Lady and Nymeria by her side. Very few ladies of the court wanted much to do with her anymore. Some thought that the Stark blood was cursed. Some wondered how long it would be before Baelish was murdered in his sleep for simply being married to her. The more ridiculous theories were that she was some witch, having learned magic in the North. There were rumors that those from the North practiced the darkest of arts and all the death that seemed to surround Sansa was coming from that dark magic. Whether it was magic or curses, Sansa felt that everything she now touched turned to ash.

Perhaps she was cursed. It was a thought that had crossed her mind several times long before the rumors circulated. Now, she truly was alone. Apart from Baelish and her unborn child, she felt as though she had no one to confide in. Ros would spend more time with her than usual. Sansa learned more about her and she suspected the sudden socialization from her was either on her husband's orders or Ros could see the loneliness weighing her down. Sansa had made a point not get close to her new lady's maid. After Shae, Sansa couldn't bear watching another friend being murdered. She liked Ros and found her interesting, especially since she was originally from the North, but she continued to keep her at an arm’s length.

Yet, she found that she couldn't help but find a small amount of friendship in her. She had no other friend and while Baelish was wonderful, there were some thing she needed a woman's perspective on. Since she no longer trusted or liked Margaery, Sansa found that Ros was the best she had. However, in the back of her mind she always remembered that Ros worked for her and that she was one of her husband's whores. It was something that lingered between the two of them and while Ros took many liberties, she never once over stepped that boundary. It was as though she knew what happened to those who tried.

So, Ros spent more time in the Baelish's chambers than before. Before, she simply would be there in the mornings and evenings to wait on Sansa's needs before spending the rest of her time at one of their brothels. It always amazed that no one thought it odd that Sansa used one of their girls as her ladies maid. Then again, it was common knowledge that Baelish owned most of the brothels in King's Landing so the court thought little of it. She could have picked from any noble born girl but when there’s family ties, there are secrets. Baelish wanted none of his spilled so it was wise to pick a girl that he knew they both trusted.

Ros never toured the gardens with her or spent any time alone with her outside the chambers. Even at the brothel, so was respectful and distant to Sansa; as though they had no other relationship. Sansa greatly appreciated this distance. Shae was always close and friendly no matter where they were. However, Sansa couldn't spend all her time in her chambers. That would look like hiding and that the court had won. Not only that, but Sansa would get tired of look at the same walls constantly.

So, Sansa dealt with the stares and whispers that followed her as she walked alone in the gardens. Lady and Nymeria followed her. Lady stuck close to her but the other wolf roamed more freely. It made Sansa smile when people would jump back or yelp when Nymeria got too close. The fact that it was Arya's wolf made the court so uneasy, but pleased Sansa. Ayra's memory would always be there even if it was in the form of her wolf. She gave a small smirk got a bit too close to one of Olenna's other grandchildren and she away ran crying. Nymeria did nothing, but not all Tyrells were strong willed. She couldn't wait to see them, particularly Margaery, fall. Baelish said their power would be short lived.

Sansa was completely distracted by Nymeria's rambles that she didn't see someone approaching her. It wasn't until Lady growled that she noticed. Myrcella was approaching her but seemed uneasy, her eyes trained on Lady's baring teeth. She raised both of her hands, showing she meant no harm and Sansa ushered Lady down. The wolf went gladly and Sansa was able to get a good look at the princess. She was dressed in all black still, mourning for her mother, but she was still beautiful. She looked like Cersei in so many ways but it was her eyes that were different, kinder and far more intelligent.

“Your Grace.” Sansa attempted to curtsy but her growing stomach made it difficult. Myrcella made no comment but bowed her head. She supposed that her obviously pregnant belly gave her some leniency. Some would comment on her lack of respect for not being able to curtsy well enough. However, her pregnancy was not one of the things that the court seemed to find wanting in her. “What can I do for you?”

“May I walk with you?” Myrcella asked. Sansa nodded in agreement. Myrcella came close to her and looped her arm through the taller woman's. The contact surprised Sansa but she made no comment on it. They began their leisurely stroll, for Myrcella walked slower than she normally would have because Sansa wasn't able to follow a brisk pace at the moment. Sansa found it strange that Myrcella was showing her this small bit of kindness. Gone were the days that she stood up to her older brother when he tried to ridicule her in front of the court. Her actions were kind but the princess remained silent.

“Princess, forgive me if I'm being too forward, but may I ask why you want my company?” She hadn't been in Myrcella's company in months. She had seen her of course but had never really spoken with her since early on in her pregnancy. Myrcella was intelligent but she stayed out of the game mostly. She played when she needed to, especially when Joffrey was King, but she lately hadn't been making any moves. Sansa wasn't sure if that was dangerous or if Myrcella was just someone not to be overly concerned with. “For it has been a long while since we have spoken.”

“It has been, hasn't it?” Sansa could see the understanding in her eyes. They never had been friends. Friendly but never close. Those few weeks Myrcella had spent in Winterfell, before Bran fell, they never really connected. Sansa had so badly wanted to be her friend, a proper princess, but they never clicked. After Joffrey, Sansa wanted nothing to do with that life. She never saw Myrcella again until that day in front of the court, when she was forced to bow to Joffrey. Myrcella made a play; an open challenge to her brother. Then of course there were many times they conversed at court; all leading up to Tyrion.

“You were blackmailing me and my husband if I recall correctly.” Myrcella gave a snort at that, a sound that old Sansa would have never thought her capable of. Now, Sansa saw such a small detail for what it really was; humanity. Myrcella was smart and very capable but she hated the game. It wasn't that she couldn't be a great player, far better than her mother and perhaps with time, far better than her grandfather. The difference was that she hated it. She hated the game. She had played since birth and now she was tired.

The game caused her to lose everything she held dear. In many ways Sansa and Myrcella were two sides of a gold dragon. Both were thrown into the game even though neither wanted it. They both were forced to play and dance. They both lost many people they loved because of the game of thrones. Yet, the difference was that Myrcella no longer wanted to play, whereas Sansa would never stop. Myrcella's challenge to her brother was to stop his tortuous rule over Westeros. It was bigger than Myrcella and she knew that. When he died, she had thought her role did too and part of her was grateful. However, suddenly her uncle was charged with the murder and she knew him to be innocent. She played one final game in order to save him.

“You never really fulfilled your end of the deal though, did you?” The princess asked with a grim smile. She nodded to another group of woman who passed by them. The two covered her hands and whispered. The story of their stroll through the gardens would make it through the castle before Sansa saw Baelish for dinner that night. “I look around and I don't see my Uncle, now do I?”

“The deal was to save him, not prove his innocence. He is alive but not here. Your mother was hell bent for his head, was she not? I don't think his innocence would have saved him.” Sansa had always found it odd that Myrcella was so interested in Tyrion. None of the Lannisters beside Jaime had shown him any favor; including his nephews or father. In her brief exchanges with the princess, Myrcella never once showed the dwarf any sort of favor. Yet, she was the only one who seemed to beg for his survival. Sansa stopped suddenly, causing Myrcella to turn and face her. The taller woman searched the princess's face for any trace of detail. “You were close, the two of you.”

“Yes.” How did they miss that? Tyrion never showed his niece any outward favor that Sansa can recall and yet here Myrcella seemed to be the only person who missed him in King's Landing; excluding Jaime. Yet, Jaime was a whole other matter. Sansa wondered if Jaime believed in Tyrion's innocence. “Growing up, the three of us, Joffrey, Tommen and I, were all different. Joffrey was cruel. Tommen was kind....and I was the girl. The princess. My mother was so focused on Joffrey for he was her favorite, no one knows why. Tommen was the second son and suffered to the side. He always wanted attention. Margaery gives that to him and he is so desperate for it that he doesn't see that she is playing him for a fool.”

“But you were so much more than a girl. So much more than the princess. Tyrion saw that.”

“Yes.” Myrcella gave a small laugh. “I was four when he noticed it. I had gotten one of my grandfather's books. I couldn't read anything yet but I wanted to and I was frustrated that I didn't understand. Tyrion caught me and I thought I was in trouble. He smiled and understood. So he taught me for years and I learned more from him than any tutor could teach me.” Myrcella turned away from Sansa for a moment and wrapped her arms around herself. “King Robert never showed his children affection. My mother thought I was weak because of my sex. Jaime could never show interest in us and I'm sure you know why. My grandfather never saw us more than the next step in his legacy but Uncle Tyrion actually cared.”

“He saw your wit and he nurtured it.” Sansa found herself relating to the princess more and more. Both of her parents only saw a daughter and none of the potential she had. Women were powerless in so many ways. They were bound by their fathers and later their husbands. “That is why you care. Tyrion made sure you were happy and gave what you needed.”

“And now he is gone and I'm alone. I love my brother but he simply doesn't see the world in front of him. He is naive and part of me wants him to stay that way.” Myrcella turned back and faced Sansa. There were tears shining in her eyes. “If he ever really saw what the world was like...it would break him. If our brother's death and our mother's couldn't even break that naivety then nothing will. Tommen will always be innocent and that will get him killed.”

“Then why not stop it?” Myrcella didn't answer. The question just hung between the two of them and Sansa realized that part of Myrcella didn't want to stop Tommen's eventual death. Why? Was it mercy? Was this life so horrible that Myrcella wouldn't even prevent her brother's death? Sansa didn't know if that was a kindness or just cold. Maybe that was another difference between the two of them. Sansa would go to the ends of the world to save those she cared about while Myrcella thought death to be a kindness. Death to her was peace. “Why are you here?”

“My mother.” Yes. It was obvious. Sansa understood the pain of loss almost better than anyone. Of course Myrcella would want some kind of explanation; she would want some kind of closure. Yet, Sansa was unsure if she should be the one to give it to her. “I knew she wasn't a good woman but she was my mother and I loved her. I might not have been her favorite but I know she loved me.” Her eyes were soft but only for a second. They turned hard and glared at her opponent. “No matter how cruel she was, no matter how ruthless; did she really need to die?”

“Myrcella-”

“No.” She held up her hand, silencing Sansa. Normally the taller woman would simply talk over her and hold the authority but in this moment, she found that it was better to just let Myrcella have this moment. “I understood when you killed Joffrey. He was a monster and he did unspeakable things to you. He was torturing the entire court and running the Seven Kingdoms into the ground. His death benefited everyone and I saw that. You murdered my brother and I forgave you; but my mother? To what end was her death? What means did it matter to you? To your sister? She was powerless. Everything she had worked for was gone and the only things she had left were Tommen and me. She couldn't do anyone any harm anymore, so why did you kill her?”

“You presume that I had knowledge of her death beforehand.” It was in all honesty that Sansa spoke those words. While Baelish always assured her that Cersei would meet a sickening end, she had no idea that Arya would be the one to bring it about. Then it almost amused Sansa that Myrcella believed that her mother to be harmless now as though she retired from the game. Cersei would never be harmless.

“Oh please. Of course you did. You and your husband know everything that happens in the Red Keep and if possible the rest of Westeros. Nothing escapes you and I am certain that you helped your sister escape. You may have convinced by brother otherwise but I know you. I see you. Tell me why. What did she do to earn your wrath?”

“Bran. Do you remember him?”

“What?”

“My brother. Do you remember him?”

“The one that fell from the tower?” Myrcella looked complex. It was as though the thought of the young boy who loved to climb the towers of Winterfell was a long lost memory. Sansa would never have the ability to forget him and nor would she want to. “He died. I remember how sad your mother was. I'm sorry but what does he have to do with my mother?”

“He didn't fall. He was pushed.” That surprised her. It was clear that Myrcella hadn't thought on Bran in a long while. She had heard nothing to the whispers that Brandon Stark had been murdered. Although, her family never widely published that theory for it would have meant going against the crown. With Ned Stark being on the outs with the King, it wouldn't be wise to accuse his wife of murder with no proof. “You mother pushed him from that tower.”

“What, now?” She laughed at that. To her, the idea that her mother had pushed Bran from that broken tower was ludicrous. She knew that her mother wasn't a saint but she never would have murdered an innocent child for no reason. “In the name of the Gods, for what reason would my mother do that? She wouldn't harm an innocent child!”

“She wouldn't?”

“Not without reason.”

“Oh she had a reason. She had the perfect reason.” Thinking back on every word that Myrcella had spoken, Sansa wondered if she knew the truth. If she didn't she certainly was about to learn. “He caught them, in that tower. She learned your mother's dirty little secret and she killed him to protect it. Tell me, did you ever find it odd how close your mother was with her twin brother?”

“If you're trying to shock me with the knowledge that Jaime Lannister is my father it won't work. I've known for a long time. Since I was a child because I figured it out, so don't be delicate.” It wasn't as though Sansa was attempting to shock or frighten Myrcella. In fact, Sansa fully believed that the princess knew exactly how she was conceived. Sansa simply was being rhetorical.

“Exactly. Jaime was one of the very few people Cersei's cold black heart could love. She knew that if King Robert ever learned the truth, then hers' and Jaime's execution would be immediate.” Sansa paused while glaring at her. Myrcella was so like Cersei in looks. She was beautiful and possibly one of the most beautiful women she had ever seen. If Myrcella didn't hold herself so differently than her mother, Sansa would have thought she was looking at a younger incarnation of her. “Bran loved to climb. He climbed that tower and caught them in the act. Then he was pushed from that tower to keep their secret. What fools do for love.”

“If what you're saying is true-”

“If? If? Of course it’s true! She started all of this.” Sansa waved her hand around as though indicating the world around her was all caused by Cersei. “Without her, my brother would be alive. My entire family might be alive. My innocence may not have been ripped from me.”

“I have trouble believing that you were ever innocent. Even back then, you were so selfish and arrogant. You were to be a queen, or so you thought. You had your precious prince and nothing else mattered. You were never innocent.” Myrcella's words were more to herself than to Sansa, but none the less, she took offense to them. “As sorry as I am for your brother's death, at least he saved you a marriage to my brother. If one night he did this to you; I can't imagine what a lifetime as his wife would have been like. You would have become heartless.”

“I would have flung myself off the tallest tower if I was Joffrey's wife, or I would have killed him.” Sansa never dwelled on the life she would have had with Joffrey. When the rare thought crossed her mind, she always was thankful that it never came to pass. She knew that she would have become a far more broken human than she already was. Joffrey would have molded her into a shell and shattered her into fragments.

“I'm sure you would have” They stood in silence for a moment, simply taking in each other’s presence. Sansa could see in her eyes that she believed her, even if she never would have admitted it aloud. In another life they would have been sisters and Sansa could only imagine what that would have been like. Seeing the brave young woman before her, Sansa knew that Myrcella would have been the one to sooth her bruises and heal the wounds Joffrey caused. “And I wouldn't have blamed you either way.”

“Can't you see? Can't you see why I hate them so much?” Sansa knew that she would never answer. One never says aloud how much they loath their family. There were times that she found her own family frustrating or annoying. Thinking back on how tiresome she grew of Winterfell and the Starks, it felt as though they died all over again. She was never grateful and that is one of the biggest regrets of her life.

“They're my family and I love them.” With that Myrcella turned away. She was graceful and poised. She had always admired that about her. Old Sansa used to practice walking that way. She studied how Cersei glided and Sansa thought if she was to be queen then she needed to walk like one. It was during the times that she had been a fool. There were moments she looked back on fondly from her childhood but those memories all belonged to the time before King Robert rode North.

“Your Grace.” Sansa called out and Myrcella stopped. She never looked back but Sansa knew that she was listening. “You and your brother, and perhaps at times your uncle, are excluded from those feelings.” While Sansa hated the Lannisters with a burning fire, she had to admit that she never hated Myrcella or Tommen, even though he had sentenced her sister to death. Tyrion she never trusted but she never hated him either. He always seemed so different than his siblings.

“And my father? What of him?”

“I'll show him no mercy.” Myrcella said nothing and remained still. Sansa had thought that she would begin walking away again for she stood there; not moving. People continued to mull about, glancing at them as they past. However, none of them would get close enough to hear them speak. Their voices had been hushed and despite the fact that neither was being kind, they never dared to raise their voices. Sansa had thought that Myrcella would remain on the spot for some time but after what felt like an age, her voice traveled back to Sansa.

“He'll come for you. He'll come.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Mrycella. She really is one of my favorite Lannisters. I feel that she didn't get a just do in the show. I think they could have done so much more for her.
> 
> Anyway, let me know your thoughts.


	108. Chapter 108

Chapter One Hundred and Eight

The tavern was dingy. It was on the edge of the city and away from the sea. It wasn't near the King's Road that led into the city nor was it near any other place of business. It was isolated and due to its separation, the tavern rarely had many customers at one given time; only a handful. Those who did frequent there were not the most trustworthy. Criminals, thieves and felons ran there. However, there seemed to be an unspoken rule that if a man was there, no one saw him. The reason being because every man who drinks at this tavern was hiding from someone; if one man has loose lips, then his lips might be cut off later. It was an unspoken rule but a rule none the less.

Unless you're Petyr Baelish.

He was one of the, if not the most, powerful man in all of Westeros. Those of the lower class knew of him because he owned many of the brothels, taverns and inns. They knew how ruthless he could be when he didn't get what he wanted. Some would say that this power and infamy would be dangerous to his game. Too many wild cards, however, not many of the higher class take the time to associate with the lower class; except the Queen but she only doted on the small children, widows and elderly. She did so when she could be seen doing it. Baelish hid in the shadows and manipulated the criminals. They feared him for they knew what he could do to them.

So, when a particular man sat down to have a pint of ale in a secluded tavern off the main road, a scroll was sent directly to Baelish. Most would keep their mouths shut; head bent down and forget who they saw that night. Yet, when it was a man that Baelish was interested in, it was far wiser to be the one to turn him in. For, nothing was like the wrath when Baelish learned you said nothing.

There were many kinds of people who drank at that tavern. They got all sorts of people and many of them knew what the other had done and the enemies they had made. It was rare for them to get someone who was high born and when they did it was because they were running from something. Even the high court gossip reached the lowest parts of the city. When Ser Barristan was stripped of his title, he hid here. Baelish came to find him and gave him an offer. He wasn't the first and he certainly wouldn't be the last.

If he had been running from anyone else, this tavern might be the best place to hide. It was obvious why he was running. He was running from the gossip and the words. Rumor had it that the court had turned on him. Fucking your sister was taboo in the high courts yet in the slums people were less likely to judge. They all had sins and secrets. He wasn't the first that indulged in a sibling and he certainly wouldn't be the last. They had seen it all.

It didn't take Baelish long to get there. The moment he learned whom was waiting for him in that dingy tavern, he kissed Sansa goodbye and moved quickly. He left guards stationed at their chamber doors to ensure that no one would enter and harm his wife and unborn child. He hated leaving at this time but it was unclear as to when he would get another chance at this. Sometimes the game took an unexpected turn and this was one of them. He sent word back that Jaime Lannister was not allowed to leave the tavern and if he did, then any amount of force would need to be taken.

The end was near and loose ends need to be tied up.

Baelish stepped out of his carriage and walked into the tavern, with a look of purpose to him. He looked around and saw the usual faces. When they saw him enter, the men at the bar lowered their heads. They all knew why he was there and what he was about to do. The barkeep nodded his head towards a table in the back. Baelish smirked. He nodded to his guards and they spread out, giving Baelish a wide berth and to cover any escape route that might be available to Jaime. Baelish walked slowly until he reached the table, the Kingslayer was occupying. He sat down and leaned back, waiting to Jaime to lift his head.

“I wondered if it would be you who would find me.” His voice was gruff and his breath smelled of ale. It was clear that Jaime was drinking his sorrows away. It was obvious that Cersei loved red wine and that Tyrion would drink anything offered to him but Jaime had always been the sober one. Perhaps everyone had their tipping point to which they would fall into the bottle. “I figured that whoever found me here would be the true King of the country.”

“Me? King?” Baelish chuckled. “I'm not King nor would I ever want to be. Kings and Queen die far too easily in today’s world; I'm nothing more than a humble servant.” Baelish had no desire for the Iron Throne. Why would he? He knew that he would never sit upon that throne and that he would never be loved by the people. He was just not that sort of man. To be King, they needed to be more than feared. When Robert first took the throne, he was loved by the people however that love did not last. His reckless behavior caused him that loyalty. Joffrey was feared but not loved and the people were too far gone to give Tommen a chance.

“You run the entire kingdom. I just wished I realized it sooner. I had always underestimated you.” Jaime's eyes ran down Baelish's body as though he was seeing him for the very first time. At first glance, Baelish wasn't much to look at and that is what Jaime regrets now. He had wished he had seen him for what he really was. He wasn't sure if he would have aligned himself with the Master of Coin or killed him. Things might have gone differently if the two had become friends or at least allies. “You and that whore you call a wife.”

“Now now, be kind to her or I'll have one of my friends cut out your tongue.” Baelish leered at Jaime and the other man knew it wasn't a false threat. Sansa was Baelish's one weakness and it was just so easy for Jaime to hate her. He was convinced that Sansa knew about Cersei's murder beforehand and refused to believe otherwise. Everyone could speak until they had no breath left in their body defending her but he wouldn't believe that Sansa was innocent. “Did your son like to do that? Dismember his victims?”

“I don't have children.”

“The last I checked you had three, well, two alive anyway.” It was obvious that Jaime couldn't acknowledge his children, for it would have gotten them all killed. That was a father's love through and through. If Baelish was forced to never acknowledge his children in order to keep them alive, he wouldn't think twice about it. It would be painful and possibly be the end of him but if he knew it gave them life then it was worth it. That must be what Jaime thought. Never acknowledge those three blonde haired bastards and live to never tell the tale.

“Joffrey was not my son.” The venom in his tone told Baelish that Jaime hated the boy. He looked the other man over and realized how much he must have hated Joffrey. Baelish didn't blame him because that child was pure evil and Baelish enjoyed watching Sansa take the young man's life. He had never been truly found of him but once he learned of the pain Joffrey had caused Sansa, then the fury that burned inside of him grew. Killing Joffrey hadn't been in the original plan but he was glad that he found a way to include that, if not for Sansa, then himself. Baelish had always been a selfish man.

“And what of King Tommen, simply your nephew?” While Baelish saw no hatred in Jaime's eyes for Tommen, he saw very little regard as well. Jaime must have perfected the art of ignorance when it came to his children. He had kept the boys at arm’s length in order not to raise suspicion. If he was been seen favoring them too much, and the resemblance was noticed, even the dullest of minds would be able to discover their secret. However, there was always one that Jaime seemed to favor over all the others. “And what of the beautiful Princess Myrcella?”

There was a spark. A fire that Baelish only saw once. It was the same spark he saw in Ned's eyes when he sat across the desk that he fucked Sansa on. It was the fire and passion that of a father when it came to his daughter. He enjoyed toying with Ned then because he had already pictured Sansa as his. However, toying with Jaime was different. He had no physical desire for Myrcella but he could tell that she meant something to Jaime.

“Don't you touch her!” Jaime hissed through clenched teeth. His fists balled slightly on top of the dirty table. His nails dug into the wood and Baelish knew that it would leave a mark on the table. If it was the type of table that would be in his home or even in his brothel, he might have had an issue with such damage. However, the table was already filthy and there was no point to Baelish protesting; not when he was getting so much enjoying out of toying with the man who sat in front of him.

“Is it because she looks like Cersei? She is beautiful and so had been Cersei. Although, age didn't suit her...and neither did death apparently.” Jaime hissed at those words. Cersei's dead body appeared in Baelish's mind and the damage Arya had done with her knife. It was brutal and sadistic. Even after all those months that Baelish spent studying the young girl, he never would have predicted that she was capable of such harm. Baelish smirked then and leaned forward. “You really do have a type, don't you? Tell me Kingslayer, how long would it have been before you fucked your own daughter?”

That was the final straw for Jaime. The skilled swordsman lunged across the table, unarmed, and took Baelish by the front of his robes. The two men hit the ground with Jaime on top. His hands quickly went to the smaller man’s neck and began choke him. However, his action couldn’t be completed because two of Baelish's guards quickly pulled Jaime off of him and held him back. Baelish coughed for a second and sat up. He eyed the other man with annoyance while he caught his breath. Baelish stood and dusted himself off. He walked slowly toward Jaime who was still be held back by two other men. Baelish looked deep into those light green eyes and gave a nasty smile.

“Do that again, and I promise I will make you suffer.” Baelish had an urge to hit the man but resisted. He had never been a violent man and wasn't about to start now. He was one who preferred to have others do the dirty work for him. While there may be times when dirty hands were needed, like dealing with Lysa many moons ago, this was not one of those times. “Or I could just take it out on poor Myrcella.”

“Don't touch her.” Baelish almost seemed surprised at Jaime's desperation. Before him was a man who wanted to protect his own flesh and blood. There was something primal about it that Baelish could understand. His mind flashed to the unborn child that grew within Sansa's womb. He would do anything to protect that child so Jaime's motivations were valid. However, he completely disregarded Tommen and that wasn't something Baelish could understand.

“How is it that you can love one child but not another?” Joffrey was easily understood. Only Cersei could love such a child. Only Cersei would be able to produce such a child. That was something Baelish was sure of that his and Sansa’s children would never be like. They would on occasion have to do things that most people would not, but they would have their parents to teach them and to guide them. He would never allow his children to become such monsters. The fact that Joffrey was beyond redeemable, was easy for Baelish to understand while Jaime disregarded him; but Tommen was another story. “Tommen is your son and yet it appears that you care very little for him, at the least, not as much as his sister.”

“I have no children.”

“Don't lie. I've already proven that you have a daughter. You proved that when you lunged across the table at me. Don't insult my intelligence.” Baelish grinned at him before pressing forward. “I understand that you had to make it look as though you only regarded Cersei's children as nothing more than your niece and nephews; which is not technically a lie. Must get awkward being both father and uncle, both rolled into one. However, it is clear that you favor one child over the other. That bothers me.”

“Why? What is it to you?” Good question. Long before Sansa entered his life, Baelish never would have cared who Jaime' favored; whether it be Tommen, Myrcella or even Joffrey. They were all pieces in a game to him but now he was soon to be a father. His wife was carrying his child and one day, that child would have siblings. He would care for them all equally no matter whom they were. They were a product of Sansa and therefore, to him they were the most precious gift he could be given.

“Consider it ideal curiosity.” He said nothing more one the subject but instead nodded his head towards the two guards who were holding Jaime in place. It surprised him how little Jaime fought them. He had expected more of a struggle from the man who bravely killed the mad king. Yet the mix of alcohol and grief clearly caused Jaime to care very little for himself. So, when the two men pushed him back down into his seat, he didn't stop them. Baelish picked up the chair that had been knocked over when Jaime attacked him. He sat down in the chair and crossed one leg over the other. He folded his hands together, rested them on his knee and gave the Kingslayer a pointed look. “My wife had an interesting chat with your daughter. Myrcella seems to believe that you are going to kill Sansa. Why would she say such a thing?”

“Arya Stark murdered the only woman I loved and she still lives. I want her to feel the same pain I did when Cersei died.” Objectively, Baelish had to admit the elegance in the idea. Arya took the one thing that really mattered from Jaime. Sansa was the one person who mattered most to Arya. Therefore it wasn't too much of a struggle to imagine why Jaime would want Sansa dead. However, Sansa was also the one person that mattered the most to Baelish and Baelish wasn't going to sit by have his world come crashing down.

“You never even asked why Arya killed her. Did you?”

“What are you talking about?” Confusion was written all over his face. He really didn't know or simply was too drunk to remember. Sansa spelled it out for him. That day in the Sept of Baler, she told him why Cersei deserved the punishment Arya inflicted upon her. Yet he continued to hold Cersei up on that pedestal he has her on.

“It's poetic. It really is.” Baelish chuckled lightly. “Sansa told me everything she spoke to you about. She tells me everything. So I know that you know that Margaery was in on the plot to kill Joffrey, just as much as she was behind Cersei's death.” Margaery had made sure that Tommen was never alone with Jaime in order to discover the truth because Jaime surely would have told him. Whether Tommen believed it was a whole different question. “Do you really think Arya killed Cersei because Margaery asked her to? You want to kill Sansa because it will be revenge against the young woman who stole the love of your life. What you're overlooking was that Cersei's death was revenge. Revenge for Bran.”

“Bran? Bran Stark?”

“You haven't really thought on the young boy at all? The Stark boy that died falling from the tallest tower at Winterfell.” Baelish had done many cold and heartless things in his time but he knew that he would remember pushing a defenseless child from a tower. He would have done it for Sansa certainly but he would have remembered that boy. He would have remembered every inch of him. He couldn't say the same for Jaime. “That is why Arya killed her. Because of Bran. She murdered Bran and Arya wanted justice for that. It wasn't just on Margaery's orders. No. Margaery presented the opportunity. That is all.” With those words, Jaime let out a laugh. Baelish had to admit that laughter wasn't what he was expecting at the moment. He was expecting something along the lines of bargaining or begging. That was what men in Jaime's position did. Laughing wasn't one of them. “You find this funny? I'm going to kill you. You do realize that?”

“Oh yes. I figured that the moment you sat down in front of me. I'm actually relieved for there is no reason to stay alive if Cersei isn't. Not even for my daughter.” Jaime started to laugh again and Baelish couldn't see why. Baelish didn't like not knowing something and it was clear that he was missing a piece of the puzzle. “You think you're so clever. That you have everything figured out when you're missing the obvious.” Jaime reached over and picked up the glass that had toppled over. He looked inside and saw that there was still some ale left and chugged it down. “Yes the boy caught us. He saw the wicked things I was doing to my sister and he knew. You all assume that it was Cersei who pushed him. She didn't. I did and the funny thing is, she didn't want me too. 'He's just a boy'. She mourned him you know. So, you can tell that bitch of a wife that Arya killed the wrong Lannister.”

Baelish raised his hand and quickly weaved his fingers through Jaime's golden hair. He brought the other man's face down onto the table and the harsh crack could be heard throughout the tavern. When Jaime's head was lifted, there was blood spilling from his nose and down his face. His gorgeous face was slightly disfigured by his broken nose.

“What did I say about speaking about my wife in such a manner?” Jaime didn't reply but instead tilted his head back in hopes of stopping the bleeding. “We were never sure who exactly pushed Bran from that tower and Sansa once said that it didn't matter because in the end you did it for Cersei. I get it. If I was in your position and pushing an innocent boy from a tower meant protecting Sansa, I would do it without a second thought. It's just the power she has over me. That same power Cersei still has over you. It is always going to be the woman who are our downfall, isn't it?”

“Cersei didn't control me.”

“Didn't she?” Baelish cocked an eyebrow. While his words were true in regards to himself and Sansa, for she was his only true weakness, the difference was that Sansa viewed him as her equal. Jaime was nothing but a pawn to Cersei. She was so in love with herself, the only man she enjoyed taking as her lover was the closest person she could get to herself. Her twin. When that failed she bedded her cousin. Baelish had thought Cersei was beautiful and for a brief moment though about seducing her when they first met but once he learned her preference, it was as though something inside him recoiled. Even Baelish, the man who peddled sex and desire, found no intrigue in incest. “From here it looks like you're nothing more than her toy.”

“And you're not Sansa's?” Jaime shook his head and then shrugged. “I guess in the end it doesn't matter. You win. Whether this is your game or some master manipulation on your wife's part; I don't know and I don't care. I know I'm not going to make it out of this tavern alive. The writings have been on the wall for a long time.” Jaime picked up the goblet again and drained the very last drop of ale that was left inside of it. “Whatever game you're playing, you've already won. Just, don't kill her. Myrcella. Let her live a long and happy life far away from this place. She doesn't want this life. Don't kill her.”

“In the end, it won't be my decision.” With that, Baelish nodded his head and two men came on either side of Jaime. One held him down while the other took a blade and placed it on Jaime's throat. Baelish watched as the blade slide across the skin easily. Jaime's eyes never left his, sending him silent pleadings to spare his daughter. He never stopped silently pleading as the blood slid from the wound on his neck. It wasn't until his eyes dropped and the life left them that Jaime stopped gazing at Baelish. “Clean this up. Bury him out back. Don't mark the grave.”

With that he stood and smoothed out his clothing. He looked to Jaime's lifeless body, hunched over the table. His blood was still spilling out onto the table. Baelish had heard many last words from dying men but this was different. He didn't like Jaime, he never had, but the pleadings of a father begging for mercy for his daughter made Baelish feel something he hadn't before. He thought on the unborn child growing in Sansa and wondered if his last words would be something similar.

No. They wouldn't, because Baelish was smarter. If he was to meet his end, he would ensure that his children and their mother were safe long before he was forced to face the gods. If everything he played went accordingly, then he would die an old man with Sansa by his side. That made him smile. He gave Jaime one last look before turning away. He slowly walked out of the tavern and into the night; where his carriage was waiting to take him back to his wife.

Not a single person moved or said a word as the bloody body of Jaime Lannister was pulled from the tavern.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that happened.
> 
> I didn't want to drag out Jaime's story-line longer than it needed to be. In my original outline, he had a different outcome where he lived but it just didn't fit. I feel that Jaime wouldn't rest while the woman who murdered Cersei was alive. So, he needed to be disposed of. For those of you who love Jaime, sorry. 
> 
> I love the idea of his last words being that of Myrcella. It just gives me tingles.
> 
> I want to discuss the next few chapters. 109 and 110 are currently in beta. However, 109 is rough. I went through some serious writers block and it just wasn't flowing. Therefore, my beta is going to do some extra work on it. Please be patient. 
> 
> I am writing 111 and guess what guys...that leaves only eight chapters (including 111) to write. Not only that but 111 has been something I've been looking forward too since very early in Boden. Something I've been planning. I'm excited.
> 
> Review please.


	109. Chapter 109

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Happy 4th of July to my American readers!

Chapter One Hundred and Nine

Baelish hadn't been to the brothel in weeks. He wasn't concerned for he knew that it was in good hands. It still turned a profit and one that continued to make his life and Sansa's comfortable. He trusted Olyvar to run the operation smoothly, all the while still warming Loras' bed. It was important, now more than ever that Baelish knew what went on inside the Tyrell household. He had always assumed that it would be he that casted the first stone to end that alliance that had lasted for years; yet, when Margaery sought after Arya to murder Cersei, which had ended any relationship that they might have had.

It also saved Sansa some heartache in the end. The friendship between Sansa and Margaery never would have lasted and it pleased Baelish that it ended far earlier than intended. When it came to who she would pick in the end, he never doubted Sansa. Yet he also knew that she wasn't going to be pleased with losing the one friend she had made in King's Landing. It made everything he had to do easier that it was Margaery that severed that friendship. It was obvious that the Queen still tried to be in Sansa's good graces but Sansa only tolerated Margaery. She was the Queen so she had to play some semblance of nice.

When the end came, as the letter in his hand indicated it would, the issue of Cersei's murder wouldn't matter. Baelish smiled. Everything he had worked for, years of planning was coming to a close and his reward in sight. The years of work, trust earned, scheming would be fruitful. His life with Sansa and their children would be safe. He leaned back in his chair and traced over the elegant and familiar handwriting. He couldn't take credit for this but it worked well for him. The Golden Company of sell-swords. Baelish personally felt as though they couldn't be trusted but he had been wrong before. Either way, it didn't matter what side they are on. If they double crossed now, it would ruin them.

Baelish was pulled from his thoughts when the door to his solar opened. Sansa stepped inside and she had never looked more beautiful. Then again, she was always beautiful to him. Her stomach was round and her hands were all but permanently on her back. She had dark circles under her eyes because sleep was rare for her now. The child that grew inside of her seemed to kick while Sansa was still. When Sansa tried to rest, the child was the most active.

It was as though movement caused the child to sleep. Sansa would always get a small smile on her lips when the child slept. She would place her hand on her bump and give him a secret look. It was one of an expectant mother who was so in love with her child. Baelish cherished those moments because it was meant for just the two of them. It was a moment that no one else could intrude upon. However, no matter how much he enjoyed those secret smiles and glances, Baelish wished for the child to come.

Maester Reedman assured him that it would be soon; within the next week or so. No matter how soon it was, it felt like an eternity. He could see the pain and weariness that Sansa was facing in the final months of this pregnancy. Her feet were swelling as were her cheeks. Her hair grew quickly and was nearly impossible to keep upright. She was constantly hungry and exhausted. Intimacies were still frequent but not as often as they had been earlier in the pregnancy. It was for the simple fact that Sansa wasn't comfortable and Baelish would never inflict anything upon her that might uncomfortable for her.

It was painful for him to watch her in such discomfort. He would never mention it aloud to Sansa but there were times when he almost felt sorry for himself. She wasn't exactly the easiest person to live with at the moment. With Arya gone and her friendship with Margaery dissolved, she didn't have many people to turn to. Baelish noticed that his wife was growing closer to Ros simply because she craved female companionship. In the moments when she felt the most alone, Baelish was the one who she took her anger out on. He never complained and he knew that she always felt guilty afterwards. Either way, there were several reasons why he was anxious for his child to be born. His wife's emotions would be back to normal, or so he hoped, he would be able to hold his child in his arms for the first time....and the game would finally be over.

“Can't sleep?” Baelish asked with a small smile. It was late; far later than he was accustomed to working. However, with him working directly from his personal solar and forgoing trips to the brothel, he found that there was far more work to be done. The letter he had just received only proved that. He held out his arms and Sansa walked into them, sitting down on his lap.

“No. The baby is kicking me constantly. It makes sleep almost impossible.” It came out as a groan. She placed her hand on her back and buried her face into his neck. Baelish's hands moved to the spot she was rubbing and applied pressure. Sansa gave out another groan and that caused Baelish to continue to his work. Her back had been bothering her constantly and there was very little either of them could do to relieve the tension. Baelish could rub for hours and she still would be in extreme discomfort. “Working?”

“Always Sweetling.” He kissed the top of her head and leaned down to place his lips on her stomach. His free hand caressed the bump and he smirked when he felt the child kick. He always got so much joy from feeling that. It made the fact that he was going to become a father so much more real. It made him realize that he finally had a family and wasn't alone. “And you little one, listen to your father and stop giving your mother so much trouble.”

“What are you plotting?” Sansa asked, completely ignoring the fact that Baelish was speaking to their child. Neither would ever discuss the fact that Baelish would routinely engage their unborn child in conversation. Both were sure that no one in the court would believe them if they did speak of it. Baelish lifted his head and raised an eyebrow as though he found it rude that she was interrupting him.

“I'm having a very important conversation.”

“The two of you will have a lifetime of conversation, now tell me. What are you plotting?”

“Who says I'm plotting anything?”

“Because I know the man I married Petyr, you're always plotting something.” This caused him to chuckle, however Sansa wasn't finding the situation humorous at all. The one thing that always infuriated her about her husband was the fact that he had a habit of keeping secrets from her. While he never once lied to her, he also told her that there were some things he could never tell her. He always promised that one day everything would be clear and he would give her every detail.

She knew bits and pieces. She could see through only what he allowed her to see. Sansa knew that he murdered his first wife. She knew that he had Lysa kill Jon Arryn. She knew that he bankrupted the Seven Kingdoms. She knew that he did nothing to prevent Cersei from murdering her husband. She knew that he arranged the married between Margaery and Joffrey. She knew that he spent an entire year going from kingdom to kingdom collecting taxes and learning every secret he possibly could. He let slip about her brother, Jon's true parentage. He came to Winterfell with the sole purpose of marrying her. Then, there was everything they accomplished together. The only thing she didn't know was why.

Why do all this?

“You do know me well.” Baelish smirked but Sansa wasn't smiling. He sighed and brought her head down slightly so he could kiss the top of it. He ran his fingers through her red hair, combing the small knots that had formed. Her hair hung loose around her shoulders and he watched them sway. His eyes grew thoughtful as though he wasn't sure exactly what to say. “I hate keeping things from you. When I had planned to marry you, long before I even met you, I had assumed I would push you aside and keep you in the dark. I had planned for you to live out a happy life with children and never really involve you in any of this. I had planned to marry you simply to gain the North and the Riverlands by extension of your uncle. I had the Vale, an alliance with the Reach. Two more kingdoms and I would be the most powerful man in the Seven Kingdoms. And then I met you and you blew all my plans to hell.”

“How?”

“Because I quickly realized that I grew to care for you. You were so much more than I expected. I expected you to be beautiful but you were far beyond that. Your mind was sharp and you could see through people. You could bend them to what you wanted them to be and make them see what you wanted them too. I could see the pain behind your eyes and I could see how you suffered. You were just trapped and alone, hidden behind those stone walls. I watched you grow and blossom. I saw what you could become and it was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. You became the one thing I adored in this world. You became my weakness.”

“Then tell me what you're planning.” Sansa reached down and took Baelish's face between her hands. His eyes were glassy and a few tears leaked out and Sansa wiped them away with her thumb. She stroked his cheek with her thumb, never breaking eye contact. “You have always been honest with me. You never hid what you were. From the moment you kissed my gloved hand I could see you. I hate that you are hiding this from me.”

“It's coming. The end. If it goes wrong, I have made arrangements for your evacuation. If something goes wrong. Ros knows what she needs to do in order to get you out of the city and out of Westeros.” Sansa shook her head; refusing to listen to him. Baelish wasn't one to protect others. He always had a move and a plan in order to win. He did allow himself the option of losing. If he was willing to plan for whatever endgame he was working towards to fail.

“No. You will come with me.” Sansa curved her fingers in order for her nails to dig into her husband's scalp slightly; not caring if she hurt him. His words cut deeply into her soul that the small half moon marks that would scar his skin was nothing compared to the pain she felt. “I refuse to raise this baby alone. I need you.”

“I'm committing treason Sansa. I am doing something far worse than anyone in this entire country has done. Worse than Cersei, Jaime, all the Lannisters's sins cannot be compared to mine. Joffrey killed for the thrill of it but his death toll is nothing compared to mine. I bankrupted an entire country and thousands upon thousands have died because of me and what I wanted.” Baelish leaned up and took her lips. They kissed slowly, every emotion he felt for his wife pouring into it. When they broke apart, Baelish rested his forehead against hers. “If this goes wrong, those deaths will have been for nothing and my punishment will be far worse than taking the Black or the Black Cells and I refuse to allow you to suffer the same fate. I refuse to allow our child to suffer that fate.”

“If you would just tell me what you're doing Petyr, I could find a way to save you.”

“You're not listening to me Sweetling.” He gave her a small grin that was reserved just for her. “If my plan fails, there will be nothing left to save.” He gripped her hands tightly and kissed them. “After Arya's actions, Tommen would never forgive what I have done and Margaery wouldn't have a reason to save me. The entire Tyrell line wouldn't come to my aid. The Vale will go to Harold Harding and he has no reason to help me. Your Uncle will turn his back because I will ask him to in order to protect you. You will be gone and the North will have no reason to fight for me. It's best this way.”

“No.”

“Listen to me Sansa.”

“But we have plans. You promised me that we would raise this child at Harrenhal. You promised me years. You promised me that we would grow old together.” She couldn't imagine her life without him now. She had lost so many people in the last two years alone that his loss would break her completely. Sansa wasn't even sure she would be able to keep it together for her child. In her mind’s eye she always saw herself going grey with Baelish by her side. Now, he was painting a terrifying picture of her alone, raising this child on a foreign soil.

“And we will. I'm rarely ever wrong Sweetling but I have to always plan accordingly. I can't just assume that my enemies will fail. I have to know the cost in case I miscalculated somewhere. I am prepared for my life to end. I've known that was a risk since the moment I started playing the game. However, I refuse to allow you or our child to die in the process. If the moment comes and you have to run, you do it and don't look back.”

“Petyr-”

“Promise me.” He took her face between his hands and felt the tears that were pouring out of her eyes. She cried so easily now, but Baelish was never one to judge her for it. He looked deeply into those ice blue orbs and slowly, she nodded her head. He knew that Sansa would do anything to protect their child even if it meant abandoning him; and he would have it no other way. He only hoped that it wouldn't come to that. “Perfect.”

Sansa moved closer into her husband's embrace and rested her head on his chest. She closed her eyes and could hear his heart beating. It was a soothing sound and one that she clung to. Hearing the smooth rhythm made her realize that he was still alive and still with her. As long as that heart continued to beat, she would still have her husband by her side. That was something she wasn't willing to let go of. She felt his lips on the top of her head, causing her to look up into her husband's eyes. She touched the side of his face and just held her hand there.

“Kiss me.” The words came out in desperation. She didn't know what else she could do. She just needed to feel him. She needed to reassure herself that he was still alive. That she wasn't alone. Baelish gazed into her eyes before lowering his lips to hers. The kiss was soft and warm. He was gentle. While Baelish had never been rough or cruel to her, there were times of late that his touch held something different. It wasn't the passionate embrace that she had come to know from him. It was more and Sansa didn't know how to describe this feeling that was rising up inside her.

Sansa shifted on his lap in a torturous way. Baelish hissed at the contact. While their marital bed had always been fluent with activity, he knew that Sansa was at the point of her confinement that relations were becoming uncomfortable. He didn't want to do anything that would cause her discomfort so he was willing to ignore his own needs and forgo his own release. He just wanted his wife to be comfortable and worshipped.

She wasn't feeling beautiful. The weight she gained and all the other side effects that come with pregnancy made her feel completely undesirable. While she never really expressed those feelings aloud, it was something that Baelish could see written all over her face. Mixed with the swing in her emotions, Baelish tried to spend extra attention to his wife. While intimacies was something she began to feel uncomfortable doing, he always tried to bring her to release in order to relieve stress that he knew she was feeling.

Even if that means he would have to go without.

This was one of those moments. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself deep inside her but with her discomfort and emotions coursing through her from their conversation, Baelish wanted to focus on her needs and not his own. He could always take care of himself later. So, he continued to lightly kiss her while he drew light circles on her skin. It wasn't a deep kiss but enough for his lips to cause a little moan to escape from her.

Baelish reached toward the top of her robe and began to pull at the strings. Slowly, the robe began to show her white creamy skin. His lips began to trail light kisses along her jaw and to her neck. Sansa whimpered at the contact and the pleasurable feeling his lips caused. His teeth nipped at her skin and she knew that it would leave a mark; a purple bruise would be there. Before she might have been concerned what the world would think if that saw such a mark on her. Now, she didn't care. Let the world know that her husband adored her enough to suck at her pulse until she begged him to go lower.

Baelish continued to work at the strings on her robe. Soon her breasts, that were larger than they were when they first married, fell out and he couldn't help but begin to pinch at her nipple. She hissed and moaned at the feeling that he was causing her. He twisted and plucked at her nipple before palming her entire breast. Sansa moaned at the sensation on her breasts. They were sensitive and anything Baelish did was magnified. She hissed in delight as his nail pinched the nipple again.

While his one hand was busy the other began to create a trail up her silky thigh. As he went, he took the fabric of her robe with him. As he went, Sansa moved her legs farther apart allowing him easy access. He could smell her arousal but he wasn't about to give in so easily. The longer he took to give her the pleasure she craved, the harder her release would be. She needed to relax and Baelish was going to do anything to give it to her. His fingertips slowly drew circles on her skin and each stroke caused her to whimper.

“Petyr, please.” The words came out in a breathy moan. Baelish brought his lips to her neck, giving her a light kiss and Sansa could feel the smile on his lips. The hand on her breast pinched slightly harder while the other moved down her thigh; just missing the spot she wanted the most. She knew what he was doing and it only made her whimper more.

“All in good time Sweetling.” He chuckled in her ear. He teased her breast some more as his teeth nipped at her neck. Sansa withered and begged him to touch her. Her hips and backside swayed against him, causing him to grow hard. His pleasure wasn't the goal and he knew that he would have to take care of that himself but he couldn't help but hiss at the contact. “Be still or this won't be as enjoyable.”

“Make me.”

“Very well” He pulled his hands away completely and she cursed his name under her breath. This caused him to chuckle. In retaliation, Sansa rutted her hips against him which paused his chuckle and turned it into it a moan of pain. “You're playing with fire Sansa. I hold all the power; it wouldn't be very wise to tease me.” Knowing that Baelish's threat was empty because he has never once denied her release, Sansa rotated her hips again.” He placed his hands on her hips, stopping her movements. “On the desk, I'm hungry.”

A wicked smile graced Sansa's lips and she moved her hips one last time before slowly climbing off of his lap. Her robe fell completely open and she turned around, baring herself to him. Baelish eyes glazed over her body; her full breasts and the round of her stomach was one of the most beautiful sites he had ever seen. As her body changed and grew their child, Baelish couldn't help but desire her more.

“Get on the desk.” He whispered hoarsely. Sansa tossed him a cheeky smile and obeyed him. She moved so she was sitting on the desk. Baelish was sitting back in his desk chair and his eyes ranked over her. He moved forward so he was on the edge of his seat and placed his hands on her soft legs. The feel of his touch caused her legs to spread on their own, opening herself up to him as she had done many times before. “Beautiful.”

He began kissing the inside of her thigh slowly. His lips trailing a path on her skin. The closer he got to her core, the slower he made his movements. He breathed in deeply, allowing the smell of her to overcome him. His breath tingled on her center causing her to whimper, begging for some kind of contact. Then, Baelish's tongue slid out and gave her a long lick. The sensation caused Sansa to cry out in pleasure. Slowly he added a finger and then another into her entrance. He withdrew them and returned them at an antagonizing slow place. He curled his fingers inside of her, hitting new spots along the wall of her core that only caused her to cry out louder. Baelish continued to lick and suck at her until she completely came undone under in. He could feel her muscles tighten around his fingers and as she came down from her high, he placed a few kisses on her core before withdrawing completely.

“Feel better?” He looked at his wife, her juices still lingering in his mustache. She wasn't able to speak so instead she only nodded. That pleased him. He stood in front of her and brought her robe back around her body. He tied it shut with the tie before kissing her lightly on the lips. “Then hopefully you will be able to relax and sleep.”

“What of you?” Her eyes flickered down and could see his erection straining in her breeches.

“Trust me Sweetling, I can handle myself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'll be honest. I'm not too sure about how I feel about this chapter. When I wrote it, I was suffering from some serious writers block and it just was not coming to me. It took me twice as long to complete this chapter than it normally does for me to write a chapter. If it wasn't for my amazing beta who looked over it, this chapter still might not be up.
> 
> I am glad to announce though that I am official over my writers block and back in business!


	110. Chapter 110

Chapter One Hundred and Ten

Maester Reedman was coming daily now because he said that the child would be born at any moment. All they needed to do now was wait. Sansa was becoming impatient and more uncomfortable by the day. If she stayed still, the child moved constantly. While she was nervous about becoming a mother, she was more impatient for the child to be born than before. Sleeping was impossible and her back constantly hurt. She would get up in the middle of the night and simply walk the length of their chambers. The maester told her that walking might help her to go into labor and Sansa was willing to do anything to cause this child to be born.

Ros had all but moved in temporarily. Baelish gave the prostitute strict instructions that his wife was not to be left alone for a single moment. Ros was there, even during the odd hours Sansa found her awake and assisting her with anything she needed. Baelish as well stood by her when she needed him for he was terrified that the moment she was alone, the child would come. Childbirth was dangerous for women and he had seen many of his girls, whose pregnancy he allowed to continue, die while giving birth. He could not lose her and was taking every precaution that he could think of.

It was driving Sansa mad. While she adored her husband and understood his concern, her moods were rapidly changing for happy to sad and to anger. There were many times that Sansa found herself in a rage, tossing objects at both her husband and maid only to cry because the guilt consumed her. Neither would blame her. Ros would toss it off, claiming that she had far worse and that Sansa's anger was nothing compared to some of the men she had to bed. Baelish would just give her a patient smile and say that she could do anything to him and he would not care. She was bringing his child into the world and any abuse he felt due to her changing emotions was nothing in the grand scheme of things.

Yet, Sansa was done with pregnancy. She was ready for this child to be welcomed into the world and for her body to be her own again. Pregnancy did not suit Sansa, despite Baelish's insistence of the opposite. He claimed that she was beautiful but Sansa felt anything but. Ros had seen many pregnant women in her line of work and explained that every woman felt this way in the final weeks before the child was born. They were all miserable and assured Sansa that she was not the only one. She had had a complete melt down feeling as though she was an awful parent already for wanting this to be over. She wanted to hold her child in her arms.

She was having doubts in her mind about becoming a mother. She wanted to give Baelish a child and an heir but she wondered what kind of parents they would be. She knew Baelish grew up without a mother, for she had died when he was young, and his father sent him to live at Riverrun as her grandfather's ward. While he was not mistreated, at least until he challenged her uncle Brandon, he was not exactly welcome either. Sansa had always felt overprotected in her up brining which made her completely naive to the world around her. It led her down a dark path because she did not know what evil really was. Ned and Catelyn Stark were not bad parents but they themselves underestimated their enemies.

Both Baelish and Sansa were not good people. They were vicious, calculating and cruel. They toyed with people in order to further their own agenda. They both had blood on their hands. Baelish was responsible for more deaths than either of them could count and Sansa had taken a life with her bare hands. What kind of parents would they be after looking at all the pain they had caused? Sansa did not know but what she did know was that she would do anything for this child. This child would have all the love that Baelish was denied as a child but would also understand the world that they were raised in.

“You have strong one in there.” Reedman stated, his hand pressed against her stomach. She could feel the child kick the spot that his hand was resting on. If he would move his hand, it was as though the child knew and would either hit or kick that spot. Sansa chuckled lightly. She had rarely been concerned about the child because she constantly felt movement. When the news of her pregnancy spread, Sansa found herself being bombarded with advice on both pregnancy and child rearing. Some of the advice was that if she would not feel the child move, then she should be concerned. However, that was a bit of advice that she never really had to use. “Are you having any pain?”

“My back aches. There is also a sharp pain in my stomach but it is faint and only happens about once a day.” The first time she had felt it, she had begun to panic. Ros had been with her and when she saw the fear in the younger woman's eyes, Ros had thought to summon the Maester right away. Once Sansa described what she was feeling, Ros simply smiled and told her that it was a sign that she was nearing delivery.

“That means you will deliver sooner than I expected. Either way, Lord Baelish made sure that I had a chamber close to here, that way I will be able to come quickly if you deliver.” Reedman had explained to Baelish that Sansa's labor could last hours, if not an entire day, but Baelish wanted Reedman close. He wanted nothing to go wrong and the Maester was not foolish enough to try to sway him.

“Soon? How soon?”

“Only nature will tell us.” It was nearly impossible to predict those things correctly but he knew that her water would break within the next day or two. However, it was not going to inform her of that fact because over the last several months, he had come to know Sansa. He knew that if she knew how close she was, she would only obsess about it; that was something that would only cause her harm. “Soon enough you will have your child in your arms.”

“Thank you.” Her eyes traveled downward to her stomach and Sansa placed her hand on top of it. She rubbed the spot slowly and the Maester could see the worry in her eyes. He has seen it before in the other pregnant woman he had cared for. Reedman always knew that he would have made more gold if he took his practice to the homes of the wealthy. However, he enjoyed caring for those who were poor and destitute. Prostitutes were some of the clients whom he cared for the most and that was why Lord Baelish chose to avail his services. The look that was written across Sansa's face was one he had seen a hundred times.

“My Lady, May I ask what is troubling you?”

“It's nothing.”

“If there is something you’re concerned about regarding the child, it is best that you tell me now.”

“No. It's nothing like that.” Sansa replied in a clip tone. She was not used to being questioned by those she employed. Even back at Winterfell, she had not been questioned except for by her Septa but even then, she was short with her. That had not changed. However, after the slight wounded look upon the Maester's face, she decided to give in. “I am just concerned that I am not going to make a good mother. How can I?”

“If I'm not speaking out of turn, I believe that you are being too hard on yourself.” He gave her a kind smile. He moved and began packing his belongings that he would bring with him when he would check in on Sansa. “I've got to know you over the last several months and you have my respect. I see how you treat the girls at the brothel. You can be ruthless, yes but you can also be kind. I see the looks you give your growing bump when no one is looking. In addition, I saw how you were with your sister. You did well with her.”

“Until she murdered the Queen,” Sansa snapped. Thinking of Arya was painful and something she liked to avoid. She hardly had control over her emotions and Arya was a trigger that would set off a waterfall of tears. “I must have done wonderfully to have her exiled and running for her life. There is a chance that I will never see her again. She could be dead for all I know!”

“I doubt that. You would have heard otherwise.” Reedman stated. “Arya is strong and it was because of you that she became that way. Your child will be just as strong because he or she will look to you and they will see that. You will make them strong; just like you made Arya that way. When I saw her she had a purpose and a plan-” Reedman stopped quickly and his eyes widened when he realized what he said. He recovered quickly but Sansa caught the moment.

“When you saw Arya?” Sansa whispered. She narrowed her eyes and took in the Maester completely. He was hiding something. “When did you see her? Was this before she murdered Cersei? No. No you saw her after. Is she alright? Do you know where she is?”

“My Lady-”

“How is my sister? Answer me!”

“Calm yourself. It is not good for the child. Breathe.” Sansa followed his instructions, calming herself. “Good. I will tell you what you want to know but please remember that I value my head. If the wrong people were hear of this.”

“You have my word that no harm will come to you.” Her voice was strong and final. If it brought news of her sister, Sansa would make any deal with demons from the Old Religion that they seemed fit. Not knowing if Arya was alive or dead tortured Sansa. She could not imagine any other type of pain. Arya was her last Stark relation and with her fleeing King's Landing, it was as though the Starks were completely dead.

Reedman looked at Sansa, searching her face for any falsehood. All he saw was desperation of a young woman who lost so much in her life. She was terrified of being alone. Reedman knew whom he worked for and knew the betrayal both Sansa and her husband were capable of doing. The smart move would be to say nothing and keep what he knew to himself. However, he knew that Sansa would do nothing to harm her own blood.

“The night that Arya broke out of the Black Cells, I received a summons to the docks. A drunk angler had gotten himself badly injured and was bleeding out on the deck of a ship. I wasn't able to save him.” Sansa saw the dark look in Reedman's eyes and it stuck her that he took each loss of life deeply. There was something pure about him. He valued each life and that was something Sansa had lost long ago. It caused a deep pang somewhere in her gut and she snapped at the Maester.

“What does that have to do with Arya?” Her tone was sharp but the Maester only gave her a small smile.

“I was in a foul mood and it did nothing when I received a tap on my shoulder to see the young girl who had been sentenced to death standing before me.” Sansa sat up straighter at that. There were so many emotions floating around inside of her. The knowledge that someone had actually seen her sister when she was supposed to be dead was joyful; and added to the fact that it was clear that Reedman let her go instead of turning her in to the King. “She asked me to point her in the direction of a ship, a ship headed for Braavos.”

“Braavos? Why would Arya want to go to Braavos?”

“That, my Lady, I do not know and I felt for my safety, the less I knew, the better. And if that would be all-”

“Of course. You may be excused.” With that, Reedman finished packing his belongings and she watched him. Her mind was consumed with other thoughts about Arya and what could possibly be in Braavos that she wanted or needed. In living memory, Sansa could not remember a single time that Arya mentioned Braavos. Once finished, Reedman turned to Sansa, gave her a few more instructions and turned to leave. “Wait!” Reedman looked at her with a question in his eyes. “Thank you, Maester, for everything.”

“You're welcome.” With that, Reedman left the chamber, his thoughts consuming him. He almost ran directly into Baelish who was leaning against the stonewall in the corridor with a smirk on his face. The door had been ajar and it was clear that he heard everything he told Sansa. Reedman's eyes widened and there was fear in them. “Lord Baelish!” He started stuttering, not sure exactly what he was going to say.

“You have nothing to fear from me. You've served me well and with my child due at any moment, it would be unwise to dispose of you now.” Baelish drawled, as though his tone indicated that he was bored. Yet, Reedman knew him well enough to know that Baelish was never bored and when he pretended to be, it usually meant he was plotting something. The older man pushed off the wall lightly and strolled toward the Maester. “I must say I am disappointed you didn't come to me with your knowledge of my sister-in-law.”

“My Lord-” Baelish raised a hand, telling him to be silent.

“I already explained that I am not angry.” He stated and the younger man's shoulders slumped as though the weight of the world had been lifted off them. “I understand how this city works. Even those with the purest of hearts must have some self-preservation.” He would not blame him for protecting himself, for Baelish had done far worse when in those types of situations. Granted he would have exploited Arya for everything that she was worth if it had been him whose shoulder she tapped upon.

“Thank you my Lord.”

“Did Arya tell you why she wanted to go to Braavos.”

“No. Like I explained to Lady Baelish, she tried to but I stopped her. I didn't want to know too much.” That was wise. Baelish had always known that he Reedman was smart. It was part of the reason why he picked him to look after the girls at his brothel. He was intelligent when it came to medicine but he also knew when it was wise to keep his lips sealed. Those two qualities were hard to find. It was also the main reason why he wanted him to look after Sansa during her delicate time. It would not do well for someone like the Queen's Maester spending his time in their private quarters. 

“Wise decision but I'm sure you have your theories?” Baelish hinted. Bravvos had many mysteries surrounding that country. Some people went there and never returned. Others did return but wore completely new faces. Baelish was curious as to what Arya was seeking and what her fate would be. “You've heard the stories of what lies in Braavos.”

“Stories are nothing more than that. Stories.” Feeling slightly brave, Reedman pressed on. “There are many stories about you Lord Baelish. Some are true, others are not. The only ones who know the truth are you and your wife. Much could be said the same for those who lived in Braavos, only they know the secrets their country holds.” This caused Baelish to chuckle.

“I always did enjoy you.” There was a laugh in his tone and he wore a small smile that held many secrets. “And what of my wife?” It was clear that Baelish was done discussing Arya. Baelish would have to have his contacts in Braavos watch for the young girl and have them report them back to him. Depending on Arya's decisions, Baelish could have her brought back to King's Landing soon or, if she is going to follow the path he suspects, he might just let her stay and follow her destiny. However, it would be telling Sansa that, which would be the most difficult.

“She is doing well but I feel that the child will be coming soon. At the very latest, the end of the week but I suspect it will be much sooner than that. I believe that she is in the very early stages of labor but we know how these things go; the first child always takes the longest. It could be eighteen to thirty-six hours before anything happens.”

“You're staying close?”

“I have a chamber down the hall.”

“Perfect.” He grew silent for a moment he lost himself in thoughts but shook himself quickly. “If Sansa shows signs of needing assistance, I will send for you. Unfortunately, certain affairs will keep me away from my personal chambers but I have Ros, Sansa's lady's maid moved in temporarily so she isn't alone.” Reedman nodded and Baelish eyed him quickly. “However, there may be a time that I summon you to attend to my wife before her labor gets to the point that you are needed. Whatever you are doing in that moment, drop it and come directly to Sansa. Do not leave her side until that child is born and stay until I tell you to leave. Do I make myself clear?”

“Perfectly, my lord” With that, Baelish dismissed the Maester and watched him stroll down the corridor. He turned back to his chambers and pushed the door open. Ros was reading in a corner, Sansa having dismissed her. Normally, Ros would make her way back to the brothel but since Baelish ordered Ros to always be near Sansa he didn't mind if she spent some of that time occupying herself in other ways. Sansa would be driven mad if she hovered constantly. He knew that Sansa would be in their bedchamber and he made his way there.

“Sansa, sweetling?” He pushed the door open and saw his wife lying on the bed. She had a pillow behind her and she was shifting uncomfortably. One of her hands was at her back and there was a wince on her face. Baelish closed the door behind him and kicked off his shoes. “I ran into Maester Reedman in the corridor. He told me of your conversation.” With that, Sansa burst into tears.

Baelish sighed and crawled onto the bed they shared. Slowly he pulled Sansa into his arms and kissed the top of her head. He allowed her to cry on his expensive clothing, clearly ruining them. She had ruined several articles of clothing since they have been married. The first few months were due to her ripping his clothes in moments of passion. However, now it is due to her unpredictable emotions.

Words were pouring out of her mouth and it was hard for him to make everything out but he was certain he heard Arya's name whispered. He knew that on top of her emotional state of being pregnant, any news of Arya's wellbeing was something that would push her over the edge. He continued to hold her and rocked her slowly. Eventually, her sobs slowed down and it allowed her to breath.

“Feel better?”

“Yes.” It came out as a hiccup in a groggy voice. She pulled away and then Baelish looked at her face. The skin under her eyes was red and it was obvious that she had been crying. Her hair was mussed from her gripping it while in distress.

“Other than news of your sister, how are you feeling?”

“My back is killing me.” Sansa snapped and her hands went to her back. Baelish turned her around slowly and began to massage the point where her hands had been. She let out a groan and he knew that he was hitting the spots that hurt the most. “Reedman said that the baby would be here soon and is it awful of me to state I cannot wait for this child to be out of me?”

“Not at all, Sweetling, not at all” He whispered to her. His mind flashed to the news that she might be in the early stages of labor. In his thoughts of Arya and his schemes, he barley registered the fact that he soon would be a father. Suddenly, extreme nervousness overcame him.

What would he be like as a father?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know! A fast update. 
> 
> Yes. Sansa is in labor. However, we have two more chapters of her in labor because I'm drawing it out...just like real labor. Now, I've never been pregnant nor given birth. I have asked a good bit of questions of those who have been and done some research so HOPEFULLY I got it right. 
> 
> Let me know what you think.


	111. Chapter 111

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you read this....please note that I have been waiting for this chapter FOREVER.

Chapter One Hundred and Eleven

 

Sansa was miserable. Her back ached and she was getting sharp pains in her stomach for the last several hours. It began when Maester Reedman had seen her the day before but now the pains were coming closer in frequency. Sansa wasn't a fool. She knew that her child was coming and it was only a matter of time before the pain got worse. She remembered her mother when she had given birth to Rickon. She hardly remembered her pregnancy with Bran and she had been way too young to remember Arya's but Rickon's was fresh in her mind. She remembered how her mother screamed in pain but it didn't last long; an hour at the longest. However, Ros had told her that the more children a woman gave birth too, the easier the delivery became.

Ros was hovering and Sansa was certain that it was her husband's doing. Baelish knew that Sansa was nearing labor and had ordered Ros to stay close to her. Baelish wanted to be there in these final days before his child was born however, there were pressing matters that needed his attendance. When Sansa attempted to press for details, he would side track her; never answering her questions. While he may never lie to her, Baelish didn't always answer her.

Her husband's absence began to weigh on Sansa. She felt alone. She knew that whatever kept him away was important and would only benefit them in the long run, but she was terrified. The majority of her family was dead, only being taken from her within the last several months. Arya was gone and Jon had been missing for nearly two years. She only had Baelish left and in the last few weeks, Sansa had never felt so alone. With the child coming, she wanted him by her side and not out plotting whatever scheme he has rolled up his sleeve. She would grow angry when he was gone for long stretches of time and he would face her wrath when he did come home.

Then, after all her yelling and screaming, Sansa would break down and cry. She knew that it was this child growing inside her and that her emotions were all over the place. It was the big reason as to why she couldn't wait until this child was born. She missed being able to shut her emotions down when she didn't want to feel them. She couldn't do that while she was growing this small child. She always felt guilt when she took her anger out on Baelish. She knew that he was stressed and that he had been working towards this goal since long before she entered his life. 

Despite her guilt, Sansa couldn't help with Baelish's secretive nature that has come about in the last few days. While he always had secrets that he kept from her, it has only grown worse and it put her on edge. He never lied to her and she knew that he never would but he did withhold information from her. With the increase of Baelish's absences and him withholding more and more from her, Sansa knew that whatever end he was planning, was coming soon.

Baelish's plea of her having to run echoed in her mind; with the loss of Arya, even though she knew where she was now, still ached. The idea that she might lose her husband too, Sansa wondered if she would be able to survive it. Her hand went down to her stomach and she vowed that no harm would ever come to this child. There was a chance that this child would be the only family she had left and she would protect him or her with her life.

As though on instinct, Ros noticed the hand going to her mistress’s stomach. She was increasing quickly and Ros had been around many pregnant woman to know that when labor would be coming soon. She made her way towards Sansa, who was resting in the common area of Baelish's and Sansa's personal chambers.

“My Lady, are you alright?” Ros asked and she pulled Sansa from her musings. She looked toward her hand maiden and gave a tight smile. Truth was, Sansa felt very uncomfortable. There would be a brief pain in her stomach that would last for a few minutes and then leave; only to return a while later. She told Ros this and the other woman gave her a kind smile. “It appears that your child will be making an appearance soon. Here, walking helps.”

Ros reached out to Sansa and gave her, her hand and Sansa took it. Ros helped her up and linked their arms together. They made a few laps around the chamber before Sansa clutched at her stomach in pain again. Sansa gave a slight hiss and pursed her lips. Ros looked concerned as the pain was clearly written across Sansa's face. She knew that it wouldn't be too long before a screaming child entered the world. Ros made sure that Sansa was able lean against the sofa and then rushed over toward the table. She grabbed a piece of parchment and scribbled a note on it. She opened the chamber door and handed the note to one of the guards outside.

“Take this to Lord Baelish immediately.” The guard gave her a look of annoyance but a sharp hiss from inside the chamber made the guard do as he was told. Ros normally would have delivered the message herself but she thought it unwise to leave Sansa alone.

“I need to walk some more. Sitting seems to only make the pain worse.” Ros nodded and led Sansa around the chamber again before leading her out into the corridor. They were not going to walk far, for Ros did not believe that Sansa would be able to make such a journey. However, a walk in any way would make her feel somewhat better.

“If the pain starts getting closer together in time, let me know. Once the pain gets closer, the sooner your water will break and then you will be able to push okay?” Ros smiled at her but Sansa seemed slightly terrified. Sansa gripped Ros' hand tightly and squeezed it. No amount of smiles would be able to ease her nervousness. Her mind kept flashing towards the only pregnant woman she remembered, her mother.

Catelyn Stark had made pregnancy seem so easy, even though Sansa only remembered Rickon's birth. It had come so quickly that Sansa didn't really have time to process what had happened. Perhaps it was a naive thought but she had hoped her delivery would be as easy. Suddenly, a thousand questions flowed through her mind of what she wanted to ask her mother.

Something she never would be able to do.

Sansa was going to give birth to her child alone; not a single family member to surround her. She had always imagined that her mother would hold her and give her easy words as she herself became a mother. Now, she only had her handmaiden who also worked as a whore for her husband. While she wouldn't change many aspects of her life, she wished that her mother was here to be with her. She wished that Arya was here. She wished that her father was outside pacing, fear cursing through him as he listened to his daughter through a wooden door scream as she gave birth. She wanted Baelish to be with him because Sansa knew that he would be the calm one, even though it was his child being born. She wanted them all; her mother, father, Arya, Robb, Bran, Rickon and even Jon but she knew that she would get none of them.

“Don't leave me.” Sansa whispered and Ros heard her. Ros squeezed her hand tightly. They shared a look but said nothing. It was no secret that Sansa withheld getting close with Ros and after what happened to her last ladies maid; it was not something Ros held against her. She actually liked Sansa and being her maid, even if it meant receiving her cold shoulder, was far better than running the brothel or at worst, being forced to take a man to her bed.

“I wouldn't dream of it.”

They continued to walk down the corridor, making slow rounds and had done so for at least an hour. Ros was surprised that Baelish hadn't rushed to his wife's side and so was Sansa. She was terrified out of her mind and she wanted her husband to be with her. Yet, something deep down inside of her told her that Baelish wasn't going to be with her for the majority of this. It wasn't that he was pulling away completely but he was distracted. If she was a lesser woman, she might have thought he had taken a lover but she knew her husband. Whores were not his thing no matter how many he sold.

No sooner the thought crossed her mind, she saw her husband briskly walking down the corridor towards her. And he was not alone. Maester Reedman followed him with a leather bag thrown over his shoulder. Greywind padded beside him, as was the direwolf's custom since he had taken to Baelish. A smile came over Sansa's lips until she saw the look upon her husband's face. The lines on his forehead were creased in worry and his eyes shifted uncomfortably. Reedman looked as he always did but then he expected to be called upon rather quickly with the knowledge of Sansa's impending delivery. Yet, she could tell that Baelish's worry was far worse than impending fatherhood.

“Petyr?” Sansa questioned him, giving him a concerned look. Baelish placed his hands on her shoulders and leaned in to kiss her forehead. There was a question in her eyes and the returning look he gave her made her realize that the end was coming. It was one feeling to know that the end was coming when it was far off in the distant future but a completely different feeling when it was knocking on her door. “What is going on?”

“How are you feeling?” He disregarded her question and instead focused on her. He had received Ros' message about the possibility of Sansa going into labor. Sansa didn't answer but instead gave him a very stern and impatient look. “Something, someone is coming. Tonight. Now. I need you to stay inside our chambers and do not come out. No matter what you hear, do not leave our chambers okay? Keep the wolves with you.”

“What about you? Where are you going?” When Baelish didn't answer, Sansa knew that Baelish wasn't going to be staying with her. “You're leaving. Why? Now? I'm about to give birth to your child and you're just going to leave me?!”

“Sansa, Sweetling, please. I know that the timing is awful and if I had any choice, I would be by your side. If I had any choice, I wouldn't leave you, but I have to do this. I have to go.” Baelish leaned in and kissed Sansa, tasting tears and salt on her lips. “Please. I don't want to do this. I don't want to go but I have to. Ros and the maester will be with you with you and I am leaving the wolves. No harm will come to you or the child. I swear it on my life.”

“It's not my life that I'm worried about.” Suddenly, a sharp pain echoed through her womb. She cried out, sliding into Baelish's arms. His eyes were wide and his flashed to Reedman, who quickly went to Sansa. The maester's eyes traveled the length of her and asked her a few questions. Her answers confirmed his suspicion and he whispered to Baelish that their child would be in the world before sunrise, if everything went accordingly. “Don't go. Please.”

“I have to. I'm so sorry.” Baelish leaned in and kissed her lips again. His eyes were firmly shut, just relishing in the feel of her lips on his. Neither cared that both Reedman and Ros were watching them. Ros, who was used to far worse didn't mind or care but Reedman quickly averted his eyes. When they broke apart, Baelish rested his forehead against hers and neither moved. Baelish was the first to open his eyes and he saw that Sansa's eyes were shut so tightly, that if she opened them, her husband would magically be gone. “Be safe.”

With that, Baelish turned and walked down the corridor. Sansa's eyes snapped opened to see his back retreating from her. She felt as though her heart was breaking into a thousand pieces. Logically, she knew that Baelish wanted to stay with her and if it wasn't of the utmost importance, nothing would have torn him away from her during this time; but with Sansa's emotions all over the place and with her in the early stages of labor, logic played no part in what she was feeling.

“Petyr!” She cried and he froze. The pain in her voice wrecked him. He closed his eyes, willing the tears that he knew were threatening to fall inside. Now was not the time for him to show any kind of weakness. He needed to keep moving. “Please. Stay.”

He didn't turn. He didn't give her one last glance. He couldn't and they both knew it. If he looked at her and saw the pain she was in, he would have stayed. If he stayed, everything that he had worked for since long before Sansa entered his life, would go to waste. He couldn't make a mistake now, no matter how much he wanted to turn around and take his wife into his arms. It felt like he was being forced to choose between his ambitions and his wife. When the thought of marriage to Sansa first came to him, long before he even set eyes upon her, he would always say that ambitions came before romantic entanglements. He had learned that lesson with Catelyn when he challenged Brandon for her hand. He lay in a bed, broken and bloody, vowing that he would never make that mistake again. However, it was strange that it was Catelyn's daughter who would make him betray that vow.

The difference was that he knew Sansa would always choose him.

It was that thought that enabled to move forward. He put one foot in front of the other and never looked back. When Sansa gave out an anguish cry, Baelish never turned. He couldn't for he knew that if he did, he would stay. He knew that Sansa was in good hands for Reedman was a gentleman and Ros cared for Sansa even if she would never say such a thing aloud. Plus, all three direwolves would be by her side. And, what was coming knew not to harm her. He could only hope that childbirth didn't take her.

Sansa cried out and nearly feel to the ground. Both Ros and Reedman rushed toward her, keeping her up right. Ros pulled her to her chest and let her cry. When another wave of pain ripped through her, it was as though she didn't feel it. Baelish walking away from her was far more painful than any contraction she was feeling. Her husband was going to miss the birth of their first child. He wouldn't hold her hand, whispering sweet words to her or hear their child's first cry. The idea of giving birth without her mother or sister was heartbreaking. The idea of giving birth without her husband; that was a new kind of pain that she didn't know, if she could handle at the moment; mainly, because she didn't know if she would ever see him again.

“Let’s get you inside, My Lady. We can continue walking there.” Ros replied and Sansa barely heard her. Her eyes were still trained on the spot that Baelish had left vacant. After a moment, Sansa nodded and allowed them to lead her inside their chamber with Greywind leading the way. Once inside, Reedman latched the door tightly and set his leather bag down upon the floor.

Sansa paced. It was all she could think to do. Reedman walked her through what she needed to do but she found that it was hard to focus. Between Baelish and the contractions, Sansa wasn't in the right state of mind to fully grasp anything complicated. He told her to take deep breathes and she did but she couldn't conceive if they helped. However, it would make Reedman and Ros smile at her which was better than the looks of pity they had been casting in her direction. The last thing she wanted from anyone was their pity.

“Perhaps you should lie down? Rest may make you more comfortable.” Ros asked her. She placed a hand on the small of Sansa's back and took her hand. However, Sansa snatched it out of her grasps and narrowed her eyes. Rest was the last thing she would be able to do.

“No. I think I'll keep walking.” So she continued to make her way around the chamber, over and over again. Lady following her every move, keeping at her feet, while Nymeria and Greywind rested, Nymeria on the sofa and Greywind by the door, the three direwolves took up so much room, Sansa found it difficult to navigate; but she continued moving. If she moved, both the emotional and physical pain was less. If she rested, she would dwell on Baelish and her fear of childbirth.

After what had to have been hours, the sun slowly began to set. A dim orange light casted itself over King's Landing and made its way through the windows of the Red Keep. It illuminated the room and for a brief second, Sansa felt the Old Gods; something that hadn't happened to her since before Joffrey led her into the Godswood. It felt as though they were telling her a new dawn was coming.

The light led her to the window. She had looked at that view a million times. Reedman came to her quickly, trying to pull her away but Sansa stopped him. The view was different. She knew it. She breathed it but it was different. Sansa blinked once; and then twice. She tried to justify what she was seeing but couldn't. She thought that maybe it was the pregnancy but never before had she seen something like this. Sansa knew that she wasn't going crazy. She knew what she saw.

A dragon gliding across the golden sky.

Sansa's focus was pulled away when she heard them. Screams. It took a moment but she noticed that the city was burning. People were running and she could see soldiers on the ground. Quickly, both Ros and Reedman pulled her from the window. Reedman shut it as well as all the others. He barricaded the door that led to the balcony, as though that would keep them out. If someone wanted in, nothing would stop them.

The sounds of death and fighting grew closer. She could hear the sound of swords banging against one another. It reminded her to the lessons Robb used to give Arya but Sansa knew that these were not lessons. It only ended when one man met the end of the sword, bleeding out until death took him while his murderer moved on to his next opponent.

The direwolves were on high alert. Their hair standing on end and their teeth bore out. Both Lady and Nymeria perched themselves in front of Sansa while Greywind stood by the door. Ros gripped Sansa's hands tightly and she could see the fear in the other woman's eyes. She didn't know what was happening no more than Sansa did. Only that she had orders to protect Sansa and to remove her as quickly as possible if things went badly. It was clear instructions at the time but now she wasn't so sure. How was she to know if this it was what Baelish intended or something else entirely?

Suddenly, they heard screams and cries directly outside their door. The distinct sounds of fighting echoed loudly and they both could hear the direwolves growling. The crouched down, ready pounce if they needed to. Sansa's heart was beating so fast she thought it might explode. Fear gripped her and she had never felt fear like this since Joffrey. She had thought he was going to kill her and the men on the other side of this door just might finish what the dead king had started.

They pounded on the door but it wasn't as though they were going to wait for someone to let them in. This was the sound of someone pounding on the door to break it down. Whatever object they had, must be heavy because Sansa could see the door cracking and breaking apart. Within moments, that door would fall to pieces and the intruders would enter without a single problem.

The fear and pain gripped Sansa so tightly that she felt a gush of water between her thighs. The pain was intense that she gripped her stomach and cried out; she thought she was going to fall over completely. Ros took her into her arms and held her close. Reedman stepped between her and the door but kept his attention on her. He saw the pool of water on the ground and knew that she was going to have to push soon. This child was coming and not matter who was at the door, it wouldn't wait.

The door flew open and what came through startled Sansa. Through the pain, she stepped around Reedman, who attempted to stop her. However, she could feel him freeze but everyone does at the sight of direwolves; and that is exactly is what came through that door. A giant pure white direwolf; one Sansa thought she would never see again.

Several men followed. She couldn't make out their faces but they carried themselves in a way that no soldier ever did. It was far more uniformed. They carried shields and spears in their hands. They were all identical, and their tanned skin glistened in the red glow of the fire. They all were dressed in leather with steel helmets, all of them but one.

“Jon?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that happened.
> 
> Jon Jon Jon....who saw that coming??? I'm really curious. Who remembered that Jon fled the Wall and became a deserter....do we know where he went now? Why he went?
> 
> and most importantly, are you guys starting to understand Petyr's plan?
> 
> I always knew that Jon would have a large and small part to play in this story. I have been WAITING for this chapter since I started chapter 1. Like, its such a joy and relief to finally have all of Petyr's scheming come through. 
> 
> Go back and reread chapter 23. I know, it was forever ago but the hints....
> 
> Nine more chapters to go friends.
> 
> 112 will be up soon....I can certainly promise you that.


	112. Chapter 112

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, after last night's episode I figured we needed a post. It was good though. But with what happened in the episode, I figured today would be a good day for this particular chapter....they mirror almost.

Chapter One Hundred and Twelve

He looked the same as the day she got married, had it really been that long? She hadn't seen him since. He was angry at their father for lying to him. Sansa didn't blame him. Ned pretended to be his father for his entire life, subjecting him to Catelyn's cold and silent fury. He made him an outsider and made him feel as though he wasn't worth anything. Sansa didn't help matters much. She had been cruel to him but that was in the past. She knew he forgave her for her other sins, but this far outweighed that one. She hardly dwelled on it anymore. When she thought of him, the last few months, her thoughts were of worry. She didn't know where he was. The last thing she heard was that he abandoned the Night's Watch.

He was a traitor to the crown; but Sansa didn't care.

Whomever his real father was, either Ned Stark or Rhaegar Targaryen, Jon Snow was her brother.

A brother she thought that she would never see again. When the knowledge of his disappearance surfaced, Sansa had in many ways thought he was as lost to her as Bran was. No one knew where he had vanished to but seeing him standing in front of her, in her chamber during the sacking of King's Landing, she realized that her husband knew all along. Baelish never lied to her but she knew that he kept things from her; she just never imagined that it also meant keeping Jon's whereabouts secret.

Sansa pushed her thoughts about her husband aside. She was in pain and her emotions were running high. Sweat was slowly beginning to form against her skin. Her dress was soaked due to the water that crashed between her thighs. The pain was nearly unbearable but she could only focus on Jon, who was looking at her with a mixture of fear and worry.

He looked good; Sansa thought after a moment. His skin tone was slightly darker as though he had spent hours out in the sun. He also wore clothing she never thought she would see him in. She was so used to Jon wearing heavy furs that covered him completely. However, now he wore leather top, much like the soldiers behind him, and his arms were bare. He had muscles that would have come from training. His long black locks which he had always allowed to hang free were tied back and out of his face.

Yet, it wasn't just his appearance that caught her attention. It was the way Jon held himself. Before, it was as though he carried the worries of the world on his shoulders. Perhaps it was never feeling as though he belonged at Winterfell or his duties of the Night's Watch, Jon always had this moral and brood aura about him. Now, he seemed so much lighter. It was as though he had truly found a place for himself in the world.

The realization that Jon seemed to have found his place in the world didn't stop Sansa from being pissed at him. He just vanished. He didn't even say goodbye after she married Baelish. He abandoned his post as Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, making himself a traitor against Westeros. Sansa had spent over a year worrying after him and suddenly he forces himself into her personal living space; during the sacking of a city. Only minutes before, she had thought that she was going to be murdered while in labor. Sansa felt that her anger was justified.

She was already angry at Baelish, why not add Jon to that list?

“Jon?” Sansa whispered and suddenly she was greeted with the smile she could only associate with Jon. It was a rare smile; one that no one saw often but only appeared in moments of pure happiness. The last time she had seen it, Bran was alive. Sansa never realized how much she missed that smile. “What, how?”

“Are you alright?” Jon made a move to make his way towards her but he was stopped. Reedman put himself in between Sansa and Jon, for he did not know who this man was. The wolves let him by, for they recognized Ghost greeting the other direwolf with nuzzles and joy. Reedman however, was more focused on the fact that someone was approaching a woman in labor and he was unsure of their intent. “Move”

“It's fine Maester, he is my brother.” Sansa replied and then gave a hiss of pain. The sharp pains in her stomach were getting closer together. Her hand flew to her stomach and she cried out. Jon quickly rushed towards Sansa's side with wide eyes. Unsure of what to do, he placed his hands on her shoulders; hoping that this would bring her comfort.

“You're pregnant!” Jon didn't know, Sansa realized. She wasn't able to write him and tell him the news for she had no idea where she would even send the letter. A fit of rage over took her suddenly and Sansa smacked Jon directly across his face. The slap rang out in the chamber and it had everyone on guard; even the wolves. The soldiers that tore the door down alongside Jon, stood on alert, perched to defend him but Jon held up his hand and they backed down. Ghost did nothing. Perhaps it was because he knew Jon was in no danger from Sansa or that the direwolf wouldn't attack someone who was with child. “That hurt.”

“Hurt? You want to know what hurt. The nights of worry and pain for more than a year wondering if you were alive or dead” Her tears slowly began to mix with the sweat that was seeping through her skin. “Gods it is warm in here.” She slowly began to undo the outer layer of her dress. Ros quickly assisted her in ridding herself of the garment, Jon's eyes wide at the fact that his sister was ridding herself of clothing in front of a room full of strangers, most of whom were men; even if they men were eunuchs. “What hurts is the thought that I was the last one! They're all dead, Jon. Did you know? Theon murdered my mother and Rickon! Did you know that? What about when Father and Robb were slaughtered in their own chambers?”

Jon said nothing but the look upon his face told Sansa all she needed to know. He knew. Somehow, he had known. The news reached him where ever he had been and yet, he had never returned. She knew that if Jon did come back, he would have been executed as a deserter but it did not make the pain any less real. Sansa truly believed that she was the last Stark; at least the last Stark who wasn't a traitor to the crown; then again, as she looked around the room, perhaps she was a traitor after all.

“Arya?”

“She learned that Cersei was behind Bran falling from that tower.” Jon went still, never moving. This he had not known. “She wanted revenge. She murdered her. Tommen ordered her execution but Baelish got her out; or blackmailed Margaery to get her out. Details don't matter. She is fine. She is in Braavos.” Sansa hissed out, her eyes clamping shut. She bit her lip as she rode out another contraction. Standing still wasn't going to help her, so she started to walk. Ros quickly gripped her arm and started to guide her, Reedman trailing behind, keeping a close eyes on her.

“What is wrong with you?” Jon was lost and confused. He had never seen his sister in such a state. She was clammy, pale and clearly in pain. Her clothing, which consisted of nothing more than her shift that was drenched from something more than just sweat. Her hair was in a loose braid but frazzled beyond anything he had seen before. Sansa was always immaculate and well put together. The only time he had seen her in such a state was the night Bran had fallen from the tower. Arya's letters stated that she was broken after Joffrey raped her but that wasn't something Jon witnessed first-hand, only learning of the offense months after it occurred.

“I'm about to give birth, you stupid summer child. I know your time on the Wall didn't allow you to be around many women but surely this is pretty obvious.” Suddenly Jon felt like a fool. He didn't even know that Sansa was pregnant. He shouldn't be surprised, for she was a married woman. However, he had seen Baelish only an hour prior and he mentioned nothing of Sansa's condition, just as to her location and he made him promise to keep her safe. Granted, people were being murdered around them and it wasn't the perfect place for a chat.

“Fuck.”

“That’s all you have to say? Gah!” Another sharp pain hit. She gripped the back of the sofa until her knuckles turned white. She spread her legs apart and Ros quickly kneeled down. She lifted her skirt and under any other circumstances, Sansa would beat the woman away. However, Ros had told her what she would need to do. Ros put her hand quickly between her legs and inserted three fingers.

“What are you doing to her!?”

“She isn't ready.” Ros stated as she stood; ignoring Jon. The needed to know how far along she was in the labor process and that was the only way. It was something Sansa forced herself to become comfortable with; she was just grateful that it was Ros who was to do it and not Reedman. That would be a bit too uncomfortable for her, even if he would see more of her than she wanted anyone who wasn't Baelish to see when he delivered the child. Reedman handed Ros a cloth for her to clean her hand. “But she will be soon.”

“What did you do to her?” demanded Jon

“Oh for heaven sakes Jon, I'm in labor, as in I’m going to push a child out of my delicate lady bits.” Sansa stated in a highly sarcastic tone. “Seeing that you're the only family I have here, because my fool of a husband decided to lay siege while I'm giving birth, you're going to be by my side.” This caused Jon to have a dumbfounded look upon his face. When he made his way through the Red Keep to find Sansa, he never imagined that this is what he would find. He almost wanted to go back to the battle. Almost.

“But I'm a male.” The words slipped out dumbly. It was unheard of for men, beyond the Maester, to be in attendance of a woman giving birth. Even husbands waited in another corridor for news of their child's birth. It seemed strange to him that Baelish would want to be here. Seeing Sansa in this state wasn't exactly a pleasant experience for him; but he was wise enough not to say such a thing aloud to her. By the look on her face, she might throw something at him.

“Given the fact that your hair is something woman would kill for and how you are currently acting, I would have thought otherwise.” Sansa snapped at him, another contraction hit her. She cried out, her eyes closing shut. Jon could see the sweat pouring down her face. He went to her side and Ros stepped aside. She gripped his hand tightly and it was a grip that was tighter than any he felt before. He watched as her face contracted in pain and he realized that he wouldn't be anywhere else.

Ned stood by his mother, Lyanna, as she gave birth to Jon. Suddenly, Jon felt that it was his duty to help Ned's daughter, the woman he thought of as a sister, through that same pain. Hopefully it ended on better terms. No matter what lies Ned told and kept from him, Jon knew that Ned loved him and deep down he would always be his father; no matter what family he discovered on his travels.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Sansa hissed out, snapping Jon from his musings. It was a question she had been dying to know. “All I heard was that you abandoned your post as Commander of the Night's Watch, first in history by the way, and then nothing! Nothing for months! I suspect my darling husband knew all along of course.”

“You're really angry at Lord Baelish, aren't you?” Jon replied and Sansa threw him a nasty glare. She gripped his hand tighter until her nails dug into his palm. “I was in Mereen.” Sansa's glare turned into a look of confusion. It was the same expression she wore when she learned Arya had fled to Braavos. “The morning of your wedding, Lord Baelish cornered me. He told me of my true parentage. Father, well, he wasn't my father.”

“Yes yes, Rhaegar Targaryen is your birth father. Old news. Why Mereen?” Jon seemed surprised that she didn't seem surprised. He fretted for weeks on how he was going to break the news to both her and Arya. On the ship that sailed across the Narrow Sea, he was more concerned with that news than the battle itself. “Look at who I'm married to? He told me mere hours after he told you. Why Mereen?”

“Right of course. He gave me a letter, your husband. He asked me to deliver it. He said it would prove who I was. He then gave me coordinates to Mereen.” Jon stopped, suddenly lost in thought. “I wasn't going to go; not at first. I left the morning after you took your vows and went back to the Wall. That letter burned a hole in my satchel; for I always had it on. Never did get to read it.” There was a hint of laughter in his tone. “For months I debated until it became too much. I had to know.”

“My husband sent you to Mereen. Why?'

“For her. She calls me her gift.”

“Who?”

“My aunt. Queen Daenerys Targaryen.” The name made her feel like a thousand pounds of ice fell on top of her. The Dragon Queen. Her husband sent Jon to the Daenerys Targaryen as a gift. All of this. All the scheming and planning was to put Daenerys on the Iron Throne, just like her father had before her. Baelish always said that his plans would make their future brighter but with a Targaryen on the throne, was it any better? They called her father the Mad King for a reason. Would she follow down the same path?

She then looked at Jon. He was noble and kind. He was sane if not slightly moronic during his acts of bravery. He was always willing to put himself before others and he had Targaryen blood running through his veins. He was the sanest person she had ever known. He had always been in his right mind, even during his broodier moments. The Mad King was Jon's grandfather and Sansa knew that he was nothing like Aerys Targaryen.

And then she remembered the dragon she saw flying across the sunset. Daenerys Targaryen had come to King's Landing and her husband was the one who brought her here.

“And recently I learned that I have a brother.” Sansa jerked toward Jon in shock and in that exact same moment another sharp pain hit her. She cried out again, clutching Jon to her. He pulled out a cloth from somewhere, Sansa didn't see, and began to wipe her brow. He pushed her hair away from her neck, hair that was sticking to her, and tried to clean her slightly. She gave him a smile of thanks and urged him to press onward. “The child the Mountain killed on Tywin Lannisters's orders wasn't Aegon Targaryen. It was some other child. He was alive. Lord Varys smuggled him out of King's Landing. He was raised by sellswords, a group called the Golden Company. He told Daenerys the truth when he joined us. We quickly moved to find him.”

“Wait, what? Lord Varys?”

“Yes. Both Lord Baelish and Lord Varys have been Daerneys's confidences for years, working to restore The Seven Kingdoms back to its rightful throne.” Varys voice floated in her mind then, something he said to her on the day Robb married Roslin. “I’m not your enemy Lady Baelish, nor your husband’s. The sooner the two of you realize that, the easier it will be, because one day we will be on the same side.” While Varys and Baelish never fully trusted each other, they were working towards the same goal.

Sansa remembered something then. An old argument.

“Who else? Who else was with her, the new Queen? Who else did Petyr send?” She already knew the answer and it made her even angrier. In the back of her mind, a small voice told her that she wouldn't be as angry if she wasn't in so much pain. In fact, she wasn't really angry at the idea that Baelish kept all this from her. She was angry that he left her and she now was latching onto every secret he kept from her. “Who else?”

“Tyrion Lannister. He came with Lord Varys. They thought he would be useful to her. He was betrayed by his family and they saw his potential; and so did the Queen. She views him as the Hand of the King.” Fitting, Sansa thought. Surly Baelish loved that; it almost made her happy that he would have something to be jealous over. Although, she knew he wouldn't be. Baelish wouldn't want that sort of attention. The Hand of the King was too public and Baelish liked to be more anonymous; but Sansa could fantasize.

“That sneaky, secretive bastard!” Sansa yelled and Jon wisely said nothing. He knew that her anger was directed at her husband even if by some degree she was still furious with him. He was sure that he would hear more about his abandonment at a later time. Yet, he could see the pain written on her face; both physical and emotional. Baelish did all this work and all that scheming, for another woman. He bankrupted an entire country for Daenerys. He turned the Seven Kingdoms against the Lannisters for Daenerys. He committed treason for Daenerys. Irrationally Sansa wondered if he would ever show such devotion to her.

A small voice told her that he would do far more.

“I'm sorry to interrupt but you're getting close.” Reedman's voice floated her and she appeared confused for a moment. She didn't even feel Ros checking her again. How long had she been standing there? How long had Jon been there? She looked out the window and saw that it was completely dark and that the moon was high in the sky. It had to have been hours. The sounds of fighting and death had faded away; it was only silence. “We should move you to the bed.”

Sansa nodded and she allowed both Jon and Ros to lead her to her sleeping chambers. They guided her to the bed and helped her lay down. The propped her up with pillows. She watch Ros bring in towels and a few buckets of water; something that must have been prepared hours earlier. Sansa didn't even notice Ros ordering them or how she even got them. Reedman was cleaning his hands. They were preparing and Sansa had never been more terrified of anything in her life. Despite her anger and fury, Sansa knew what she needed.

She needed Petyr Baelish.

“Petyr. Please. I need him.” She whispered to Jon. He gave her a look of understanding and made a move to leave. He intended to bring Baelish to her himself but then she would be alone for however long. Labor lasted hours and if Sansa estimated correctly, she already had been in labor for the last day or so. “No. Stay. Please, don't leave me.” Jon's eyes softened and he nodded.

“Grey Worm!” Jon called and a solider stepped inside the chamber. He removed his helmet and averted his eyes form her; clearly uncomfortable to see her in such a state. He focused on Jon who put his hand on his shoulder. Jon trusted this man and knew that he would do what needed to be done. “I need you to find Lord Petyr Baelish and I need you to bring him here. Do not allow anything to stand in your way. Do you understand?” Grey Worm nodded and made a turn to leave. 

“Wait!” Sansa called out. Grey Worm paused and turned, looking at her for the first time. “Greywind!” The direwolf pounded into the chamber, taking up more room than it allowed, and made his way to the head of the bed. He nuzzled Sansa's neck, hoping to give her some comfort. “Take him. He knows Petyr's scent. He can find him quickly. Follow him.” Grey Worm nodded in understanding. He was used to Ghost and his Queen had three dragons; nothing surprised him anymore. “Greywind, find Petyr and bring him home.”

Greywind and Grey Worm left the chamber and Sansa felt like she could breathe. Baelish was coming. She knew he would. Deep down, she knew that he would be here. No matter how angry she was, she needed him. Only he would be able to quench this fear that was building up inside. He left her when she begged him to stay; but she knew that he would come back.

He always came back.

“My Lady?” Reedman stated from the end of the bed. Ros took a pillow and placed it under her hips. “I need to check you.” Sansa nodded and Reedman parted her legs. He moved her shift so that she was mostly covered and she was grateful for that. Ros took her hand and Jon took her other. At least she had one member of her family there to comfort her. She felt Reedman's fingers and it was far more uncomfortable than it had been when Ros had done it. Then again, Reedman was a man. She couldn't help Joffrey's face flashing before her eyes for a breif moment. “You're ready Lady Baelish. When you feel the next pain, I'm going to need you to push.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, get chapter we get the baby....promise. I just needed to get the conversation between Sansa and Jon done first. Plus, labor takes for fucking ever, so I used that to my advantage. 
> 
> Also, yes, Sansa is pissed off at both Jon and Petyr. However, she is mad at Petyr because he left her when she needed him, not for the whole Dani thing. I mean, she has a small bit of jealousy in her but it is more of the fact that her hormones are out of wack and she is in pain.
> 
> I mean come one, the woman is in labor...give her a break. 
> 
> Also, I'm curious on which gender you think the baby will be....
> 
> Review below and let me know!


	113. Chapter 113

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is here everyone.....they chapter we've been waiting for!

Chapter One Hundred and Thirteen

Sansa never felt such pain in any point that she had been alive. It was as though her insides where tearing itself apart trying to evict the child that occupied her womb. With each pain, Reedman told her to push and she did as she was commanded. It took every ounce of her strength, which wasn't much, to do what was commanded of her. She gripped both Jon's and Ros' hands as the pain soared through her. It was as though squeezing their hands made her feel better; if only slightly. She dug her nails into their flesh but neither of them flinched. They remained by her side; Ros out of loyalty for her employer but Jon stayed because he cared for her.

Jon whispered sweet words to her, hoping that they made the pain slightly less. While he wasn't Arya, a loss Sansa was feeling drastically at the moment, he was doing well enough. Since the moment she knew that she was going to become a mother, she had thought that Arya would be by her side. Her younger sister expressed no desire to find a husband and Sansa wasn't going to force her. She expressed excitement in becoming an aunt and had planned to spoil Sansa's children rotten. Now that wasn't possible.

Or was it?

Baelish said that he was attempting to create a world that was one that was better for their child. It was a world that he could see any children they have roaming free; without having to worry about a mad king rampaging upon their home. Her child would be safe and perhaps Arya would be able to come home. If Arya was returned to them under the new Queen regime, Sansa would be willing to forsake everyone in order to have her sister back by her side.

At that thought, Sansa was filled with hope. She knew that it was an important moment in her life, due to the birth of her child, but also for the entity of Westeros. Baelish wasn't just scheming for a better world for their child, but for all the children who survived this war. Thousands of people died and Baelish might have been the direct cause of those deaths, but Sansa had never felt that her husband had done something so extraordinary before.

The detail that went into planning this extravagant scheme and the years of effort that he had put into it, it wasn't just a few pieces moved upon the bored; it was a series of complex moves that took down not one monarch, but it destroyed an entire family dynasty. Sansa knew that Baelish had help along the way, and Daenerys would take the credit along with the throne; and Baelish wouldn't have it any other way.

Sansa had never felt more proud of him.

But as another contraction hit and Sansa was once again forced to bear through agonizing pain, the fury she felt towards her husband hit again. She remembered him walking away as she called out to him. Baelish had ignored her cries and pleas for him to stay. He had never done that before. Sansa knew when she was thinking clearly, she wouldn't be as angry but she was pushing out his child and she felt that she was due a bit of anger.

“Oh Gods it hurts.” Sansa hissed, gripping her hand tightly. Ros let go briefly to take a towel across Sansa's brow. She was covered in sweat and tears. She felt filthy and one of the few things she wanted, other than this child to be out and her husband returned to her, was a bath. While she cared for their new born, she was going to order whatever servants survived to carry buckets of steaming hot water in order for her the bathe herself. “Where is he, Jon, where is Petyr?”

“He is coming. Grey Worm will not return without him.” Jon replied, having extreme confidence in his man. He leaned forward and kissed the top of Sansa's head; hoping to bring her some kind of comfort. Jon had fought through battles, both alongside Daenerys and for the Wall. He has killed White Walkers and commanded men to risk their lives to save others. He lost the love of his life in one of those battles. Yet, he had never been so terrified except in this moment. The woman who he always viewed as his sister was giving birth. He was once again struck with the irony and the parallel between himself and Ned. “Lord Baelish will not miss this.”

“But you'll stay right? You won’t leave me?” Sansa whispered, having a brief period between pains. It would be fleeting and in any second, she would be forced to push again; but she took that moment to look at Jon and giving into the fear that she had been harboring since Arya fled King's Landing. She rarely spoke of it aloud, not even to Baelish, but that there would be no one of her blood beside her. Jon saw the fear in her eyes.

“There is no other place I'd rather be. I will be with you until the very end. Family, Duty, Honor.” Jon stated her mother's words and tears became flowing down her cheeks. Catelyn had never been kind to Jon but despite the mistreatment he faced from her, he at the very least respected her as his sibling’s mother. He knew how much she meant to Sansa and not to have her beside her during this moment was something he knew was digging a hole inside of her. “You are my family, it’s my duty as your brother to stay by your side; but most importantly, it would be my honor.”

“Thank you.” Sansa rasped out directly before another pain hit. Reedman called for her to push and she did, although this time she couldn't be certain if her tears were from the pain or from Jon's kind words. Either way, tears were falling rapidly down her cheeks that even Ros' continued wiping of her face couldn't soak them up. “It wasn't until recently that I thought I might be alone, what with Arya leaving. Granted I had thought my husband would be here. Gods where is he?!” Sansa cried, squeezing Jon's hand tightly. Her other hand reached for Ros but instead of her handmaiden's hand, she got her shoulder. She dug her nails deeply into her skin. Ros hissed but Sansa didn't care. “I'm going to kill him.”

“I'm sure you will feel differently once you have that baby in your arms.” Jon soothed and Sansa shot him a dirty look before cursing him, part of her felt guilty for her words after he had been so kind to her but Jon didn't look angry or upset. He just gave her another smile and kissed the top of her head once more. “I met someone about a year or so after I joined the Night's Watch. Her name was Ygritte. She was a wildling.” Sansa noticed the look of pain pass across Jon's face and she knew that this woman meant more to Jon that he could say. “We talked about many things and one time she told me that despite the pain and agony a woman goes through during labor, the moment she holds her child it is like none of it ever happened. Of course she never had children but she seen many women give birth; she said that they all said the same thing.”

“What happened to her, this Ygritte?”

“She died.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't be, it was years ago-” Jon's words were cut off by the sound of the door banging open. Ros jumped in surprise and Reedman glanced over his shoulder. Jon dropped Sansa's hand for a brief second in order to grip the sword at his hip. She could hear the sound of feet hitting the wooden floor in a hurry. 

“Sansa!” Baelish's voice cried out. He sounded frantic and terrified. She had never heard him take that tone before. They've had discussions in the past were he seemed sad and withdrawn but it never took this tone of fear before. She could hear Ros call out and the sound of Baelish rushing towards the bedchamber. He appeared in the doorway and he looked at Sansa with wide eyes; Grey Worm was at his shoulder but disappeared quickly enough. He glanced over the scene in front of him and quickly moved toward her side. Ros jumped out of the way and allowed Baelish to kneel beside his wife. “Sweetling, are you-”

Smack.

The slap rang out into the bedchamber like a crack of a whip. Everyone but Reedman, who was too focused on the delivery at hand, to pay any attention - flinched. Baelish winced and closed his eyes at the sting of his wife's palm connecting with this cheek. There was a red mark slowly appearing on his white skin. She knew it wouldn't bruise and part of her was disappointed about that fact.

“I'm so beyond furious at you right now.” Sansa stated between clenched teeth. Another pain ripped through her and she clenched her eyes shut; gripping both Jon and Baelish's hands. She could feel that it was almost over. A couple more pushes and she would be mother. When she opened her eyes and she could see the complete fear written upon her husband's face. She didn't know if he was scared of her anger, the obvious pain she was in, becoming a father or a mixture of all three. “When you saw me earlier tonight, you knew I was going to have this child. What bright idea did you have to orchestrate a siege no?!”

“The siege has been planned for many weeks. It took hours of preparation, years even. I didn't purposely plan to have the army attack when you were in labor. If anything-”

“If you even hint that I went into labor at an inconvenient time, so help me Petyr, I will castrate you.”

“Of course not Sweetling” Baelish rushed forward. For the first time in living memory, words failed him. Baelish could talk his way out of anything and almost any situation. However, he had no idea what to say and he never saw his wife this angry at him before. Walking away from her earlier in the evening was one of the most difficult things he ever had to do, but it necessary. He knew that he would face consequences and now that those consequences were hitting in the face, he didn't know what to say. “Sansa, please I'm so sorry.”

“We're not having this discussion right now. I'm currently in the middle of giving birth to your child.” She forcefully took her hand away from his but then another pain took her by surprise and she gripped it again. This time, she brought his hand to her mouth and bit down. Her teeth sunk into his flesh in hopes that causing him pain would somehow lessen the painful pressure she was feeling in her abdomen. Baelish said nothing but he winced at Sansa's teeth sinking into his flesh.

“If it makes you feel any better, she smacked me too.” Jon chimed in with a cocky grin.

“Shut up, both of you.” Sansa spat out. Baelish didn't reply to Jon's comment, even though it was on the tip of his tongue as the look Sansa was giving both him and Jon was enough to silence him and he knew better than to reply. Instead, he just brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. He ran his thumb over them before placing another kiss upon them. Jon watched the other man in amazement. While he saw a brief moment of tenderness at their wedding, having been distracted by his own revaluations at the time, that moment was nothing compared to what sat before him. The look upon Baelish's could show anyone the depth of his emotion for Sansa. Even when she was completely drenched in her own sweat and beyond furious at him, he never cared for her more.

“One more, milady. One more push and you get to welcome your baby into the world.” Reedman threw out. If he hadn't been barking orders here and there, everyone would have forgotten that the man was in the room. Ros hurried down to where Sansa had her legs spread and grabbed a long blanket. With another sharp pang of pain shooting through her, Sansa pushed with all her might. Her head tilted backwards and her toes curled. She screamed louder than she had previously. It was by far the worse pain she had experienced since this began but a moment later it was all forgotten.

A beautiful cry rang out through the chamber. Sansa snapped her eyes open and looked down between her legs. She saw Ros lean down with the blanket in hand. Reedman placed the wailing child into Ros' hands. Ros began to clean the baby off but made no movement to bring the child to her. Fear gripped Sansa like nothing she had even felt before. Why wouldn't she bring the baby to her?

“My baby. Bring me my child. Please. I want to see my child.” Sansa cried out, her eyes snapping to her husband who had a dazed look upon his face. His eyes were trained toward the bundle in Ros' arms. It was as though he was seeing beauty for the first time. There were even tears behind those grey green eyes. “Petyr! Why won't she give the child to me! Jon! Do something!” Before either Baelish or Jon could speak, Reedman chimed in.

“Lady Baelish, you need to push again. You have to get the afterbirth out. Once you do this, nothing will stand between you and that child. I promise.” Yet, Sansa didn’t comprehend the words. She could still feel the pressure building up inside of her but the only thing she could focus on was Ros and the child. “Lady Baelish” When she didn't respond, he looked toward her husband. “Lord Baelish, massage her stomach. It will help push the afterbirth out.” Baelish dropped her hand and reached down to her stomach. His fingers began to rub and massage her cloth covered skin.

The feel of Baelish's fingers snapped Sansa out of her fear and haze. She gripped Jon's hands and gave once final push. This one was easier and was nothing compared to the one that pushed out her child. If anything, it felt similar to the gush of liquid between her legs when her water had broken hours earlier. Once Reedman was positive that everything that needed to be discharged for Sansa to be safe, he nodded to Ros.

Ros made her way over to Sansa, Jon quickly moving out of the way. He stood up and pressed himself against the stone wall and simply took the scene in front of him. Ros placed the blanket covered child into Sansa's waiting arms. The look upon Sansa's face was one of pure joy. Tears were falling freely down her cheeks. Her smile was wide and a small giggle was escaping her lips. Baelish was silent and his face emotionless, his eyes never leaving the child in Sansa's eyes. It was the look in his eyes that told Jon everything he needed to know.

It was as though he was feeling happiness for the very first time.

“Congratulations. It's a girl.” A girl. A daughter. They had a daughter. She was no long crying or screaming, but instead her eyes closed and fell into a peaceful slumber. Her tiny thumb went to her mouth and she began to suck on it. She had a massive mop of black hair on the top of her head and Sansa could see that she was going to have her nose; or at least she thought so. While neither Baelish nor Sansa could see her eyes, they knew it would be blue; for all infants have blue eyes. What color it changed to was a mystery.

“Do you want to hold her?” Sansa whispered, not taking her eyes from their daughter. She thought she would never be able to look at anything else again. Her mother once said that holding her children in her arms was the greatest feeling and Sansa finally understood what that meant. Beside her, she could feel Baelish nodding his head. Sansa shifted slightly, wincing as she did, and began to pass the child over. Reedman appeared by their side and placed a hand on Baelish's forearm.

“Before you hold her, you might want to take off that coat.” Sansa was confused at the Maester's request and she tore her eyes away from the little girl. She took in her husband for the first time since he had come into their chamber. Baelish's entire coat was covered in blood. Despite the flicker of light that the candles gave off and the darkness of the fabric, Sansa could see that he had at one point in the evening been drenched. The blood would have dried but the stains where there. There was no way that coat would survive. Baelish clearly had gotten his hands bloody during the siege.

Baelish moved quickly, pulling the strings of his coat and pushed the hint of death off of him. Jon moved around the bed quickly and helped Baelish pull the offending fabric from his shoulders. Once it was gone he kicked off his boots that were also covered in blood, and tossed them into the coroner. When he was in nothing but his britches and tunic, Sansa moved over as much as the soreness and pain would allow her. Baelish climbed into the bed beside her.

Sansa passed the little girl over to her husband and Baelish held his daughter for the first time. Sansa laid her head against his shoulder and looked down at her. Baelish brought his fingers to their child's face and began to trace her features as though he was trying to memorize them. He had never seen anything so beautiful and he let the tears fall silently.

“She is perfect.”

“Beyond perfect”

The two of them were so enraptured with the life they created that they didn't notice the world around them. They didn't see Jon and the rest of the slip out of the room in order to give them privacy. They didn't hear the plans made to move Sansa temporarily to another bedchamber in their quarters in order to clean the room. They didn't hear members of the Unsullied request an update on behalf of the Queen, who wanted to know if the child had been born. They didn't notice the sun slowly rising above the water and beginning a new day.

It was a new day for the entirety of the world. The last of the Lannisters had fallen and a new Queen was sitting on the Iron Throne. Thousands of people died in order to bring a new regime to Westeros and the Seven Kingdoms. Yet, neither Baelish nor Sansa cared for any of it. All those years of planning and the success of all of his risk he had taken, didn't feel as satisfying as holding her in his hands. However, he was never more glad that he did for he could not imagine his daughter living in a world where a Lannister was king.

“She'll need a name.” Sansa whispered and Baelish hummed. He leaned down and placed his lips onto the crown of the infants head. He let them linger there slightly before pulling away. She started to whimper and moving her arms. Both Sansa and Baelish looked at each other in a panic, neither knowing what to do. Ros, hearing the small cry, made her way into the chamber with a small smile.

“I feel the little Lady is hungry. Here, let me help.” Ros shifted the shift that Sansa was wearing in order to expose her breast. Baelish shifted the girl into Sansa's arms again and after several attempts, Ros was able to help Sansa get the child to latch onto her nipple for the first time. Sansa winced sharply. She didn't expect the tugging of her daughter's lips to hurt. “It will hurt for a bit but you'll grow used to it and it will become easier. Just call, if you need anything.” Just as quickly as she had come, Ros left their bedchamber; keeping the door cracked.

The new parents simply watched their daughter eat. She was greedy at first but she slowly began to drink less until she fell asleep again. Sansa was able to detach her and the small girl replaced Sansa's nipple with her thumb almost immediately. Sansa chuckled, already telling that it would be a habit that would be difficult to break when she was older. Baelish reached around her and helped right her dress as best as he could for the moment.

“So, a name – we have to call her something.” Sansa laughed lightly. Her tone was completely different from what it had been before. She was still upset with him but the wave of emotion she felt from the birth of her daughter outweighed that. Baelish walking away from her, while infuriating, was nothing to the feeling of having his arms around her as she held their little girl. “Although I can't think of a single name that is worthy of her”

“Arya?” Baelish chuckled, as me moved his arm around her shoulder. Sansa shifted so her back was resting against his chest and her body between his legs. He wrapped his arms around his wife so he could hold both of his girls in his arms.

“Really?” Sansa snorted. “While Arya would be flattered for her niece to be named after her, I don't know what future that would hold for her.” With the path Arya was headed down, Baelish could agree with Sansa's thoughts. Sansa quickly thought of naming her Catelyn but dashed that thought aside. While she wouldn't mind naming her daughter after her mother, she would then also be naming the child after someone Baelish once loved. Then another idea hit her. “What of Alayne?”

“Alayne? As in, after my mother?” Baelish was surprised, as the thought hadn't occurred to him. His mother died when he was very young and he hardly remembered her. In fact, he hardly remembered his father either; for he shipped his only son off to Riverrun when he was merely a boy. Yet, he realized that there wasn't a more perfect name for her. “Alayne Baelish. Perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, okay okay....I know some of you were not excited for a girl....and I know the name Alayne is slightly overused. 
> 
> However, I really felt that it is the perfect name. Baelish gave Sansa that name in the books when he posed her as his bastard child (that didn't happen in the show for anyone who is confused). He named her after his mother....so I felt that it was something that I should do here. 
> 
> Plus....I love giving shout outs to cannon.....if anyone didn't notice that yet.
> 
> Let me know what you think.


	114. Chapter 114

Chapter One Hundred and Fourteen

 

Alayne lay in the wooden cradle that had been sent to King's Landing from Winterfell. One side of it had a carving of a direwolf. Each and every Stark child had slept peacefully in it until they had outgrown it. While Alayne may have the Baelish name, she had Stark blood running through her veins and Sansa found it fitting that her child would rest there. The cradle was moved from the nursery to their private bedchambers until she was able to sleep through the night. Baelish had briefly suggested getting a wet nurse to care for her but when Sansa held Alayne in her arms, she refused the offer. She wanted no other woman to feed or care for her daughter.

As far as infants went, Alayne seemed easy enough. She only cried when she wanted to be fed or changed. She slept anywhere but did have a preference of being held. She slept through the night, but only woke when she needed to be fed. Once her belly was full, Alayne would slip back into her peaceful slumber. Sansa forgot how small infants were. The child hadn't been alive long but the majority of her life was spent asleep. Neither Sansa nor Baelish minded for they were more than content to simply watch the rise and fall of her tiny chest. Sansa chuckled each and every time Alayne would put her thumb into her mouth. Baelish would just wear a content smile on his lips and Sansa knew that Alayne already had him wrapped around her finger. There was nothing he wouldn't do for that child.

It had been thirty-six hours since her birth and the fall of the Lannister regime. It had been thirty-six hours since the banners with the three headed dragon flew over the Red Keep. Fire and Blood - that was how Daenerys took back her birth right. Her dragons had done some damage but it would be repaired over time. They city was in chaos. The lower classes were welcoming to the new Queen for she quickly came to their aid; assisting their wounded and provided what they needed. It was the members of court and those of the higher family that were far more difficult to win over; especially those who remembered her father and his reign of terror.

And the fact that Margaery, Tommen and Myrcella were all locked in the Black Cells didn't help. When Baelish told her of the former monarchy’s fate, she couldn't help but be pleased. The irony of Margaery having to spend what could possibly be her last few days alive in the Black Cells was very pleasing irony; even though in the back of her mind, Sansa's conscience felt guilt because Margaery at one point was her only friend. It was the fact that Margaery would know the pain and fear Arya had to go through when she was locked away that pushed that guilt aside.

Yet despite the chaos culminating outside their chamber walls, Sansa remained by her daughter's side. Baelish left on an occasion but would only be gone for an hour or two. He always kissed her lightly whenever he came through the door but would scoop up his daughter first. The look he gave Alayne when he saw her melted Sansa's heart. If it was any other woman, she would be jealous to see that look upon his face but the fact that it was their daughter made Baelish all that more attractive to her.

She wanted him. She burned to feel him between her legs again and just seeing him with Alayne made that desire more prominent. However, Reedman warned her that it might be best to withhold marital relations for a few weeks after giving birth. At first, before giving birth, Sansa didn't understand why but the soreness between her legs and the pain in her breast made her understand. Birth hurt a hell of a lot more than she was expecting but it never occurred to her that the discomfort would last several days afterward.

“She is perfect.” Sansa whispered as she stared down at Alayne. The infant was asleep, as she was most of the time. Sansa was resting in a large chair in the common area of their chambers. They had moved the small cradle from the nursery so Alayne would be close to her mother. Sansa could not part from her, even to be separated by a simple room.

“She is far more than perfect.” Baelish chuckled. He reached down and traced her tiny features. At the intrusion, she scrunched her tiny face and batted at his finger. This caused him to laugh and Sansa could see that mischievous glint in his eye. “She is as stubborn as you.”

“Really? Because Jon says that she is completely a Baelish; he sees very little of me in her.” Sansa's tone was light and playful; but she knew Jon's words were true. It was obvious that Alayne was Baelish's daughter. She had his dark hair and while she was too young to really tell, Sansa felt that she might have his sharp features, other than her pale skin and the clear blue eyes that forming, there was no trace of Sansa. Jon had said that if he hadn't been present at the birth, he would question whether or not Sansa was the mother.

Jon had been coming to their chambers often. The last time they had seen one another was the day of her wedding. He was gone by the next morning and Sansa never realized how long ago that was. She had been married for almost a year and a half. So much of her life had changed in that time. So many people had died. Only Arya and Jon remained...and Alayne.

Jon was bestowed with the young girl. He proclaimed that while Sansa may not be his sister by blood he could never think of her as just a cousin. They were raised as siblings and forever they would be. Jon would be the only uncle Alayne would know; unless Arya married. That caused the two of them to laugh; for neither believed that Arya would ever marry.

“I'm still mad at you.” Sansa said as Baelish put his arm around her. As she had thought, her anger at Baelish decreased majorly when she was no longer in labor. She was angry at his very being when she was in the process of labor but now she was just hurt that he had walked away from her. She knew that he had been waiting for years to bring Daenerys Targaryen to the throne and that he couldn't put that on hold when the most important moment of his schemes came to play. He did what he had to do.

But that didn't mean that Sansa had to like it.

“I know Sweetling. I know.” He kissed the top of her head and Sansa leaned into him. They would be okay. If he had walked away from her and she was uncertain as to why, perhaps the status of their marriage would be different. However, she knew her husband and she knew his schemes. She knew that almost missing the birth of their first child tore at his very core. “Just know that I will never turn away from you again, especially when you beg me to stay. You come first from now on.”

“No.” Sansa stated and Baelish gave her a confused look. Sansa had always been one of Baelish's top priorities but she always took a back seat to his schemes. He always provided for her and gave her what she wanted but the secrets that he withheld from her only proved that his mission came first. She had dreamed of the day that it would all be over and they could live out their lives at Harrenhal. However, that all changed when she became a mother. “She comes first. Alayne and any other children will always come first.”

“Of course, Sweetling…”

“Promise me. Promise me that if anything happens, you will burn the Gods themselves to the ground to protect her.” Before Baelish was even able to reply, there was a sharp knock on the door. They didn't wait for either Sansa or Baelish to answer but instead having the door swing open. A few guards entered. She would have been concerned but the look upon her husband's face told her that there was nothing to be concerned about. It was as though he was almost expecting it. Behind the guards was a woman.

Daenerys Targaryen.

She wasn't what Sansa expected. When she heard tales of the Dragon Queen, she always assumed that she would be tall, beautiful, older and fierce. However, Sansa found that Daenerys was about a head shorter than her, her own age and while there was fierceness to her, there was also grace and wisdom that Sansa hadn't been expecting. The only part that Sansa got completely correct was her beauty. She had long pure white hair and gorgeous purple eyes. Her hair was pulled back in small braids and the ends fell down her back in curls with a few loose curls hanging in her face. There was a slight tan to her skin that showed that she had been out in the sun; which contradicted the beautiful clothing she was wearing. She had on a long white gown that had an iron clasp in the shape of a dragon that was on her chest. The clasp held a matching cloak upon her shoulders that allowed her arms to peak through.

Sansa felt as she would have if she still was the Old Sansa. She felt insecure suddenly. Her clothing wasn't elegant as the Queen who stood in front of her. Her dress was one from her pregnancy. It was a pale green with short sleeves that perched on her shoulders. It covered her chest but it was easy to her to pull down in order to feed Alayne. It was simple with no belts or design. The only jewelry she wore was the black choker with the mockingbird pendant that Baelish had given her during the early days of their marriage. Her red hair was in one braid that hung over her shoulder for the sole purpose that it was out of Alayne's face while she fed. Yet it went beyond clothing and hair. Daenerys' body was firm while Sansa felt lumpy, the extra weight still clinging to her body.

“Your Grace.” Baelish stated with a deep bow. Sansa could tell by his tone that he respected this woman; or at least as much as Baelish was able to. Sansa moved to curtsy in order to greet her new queen but Daenerys put her hand up to stop her. She gave the two of them a gentle smile that caused Sansa to feel relieved. She never thought that the new queen would make her way to their chambers.

“Please, I'm certain that you must be sore. Don't strain yourself on my account.” If her tone hadn't been sincere, Sansa would have thought that she was being sarcastic. “I know you have just given birth and you must be exhausted. I remember the few days after my son was born. I remember how tired I was and how much discomfort I felt.” Daenerys moved toward the cradle and looked down at Alayne. She gave a small smile. “She is beautiful.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” She nodded but never took her eyes from Sansa and Baelish's daughter. She reached down and stroked the young infant’s cheek. Sansa watched with a careful eye and a sudden urge to take the child away from the Queen almost overwhelmed her. She knew that Alayne was in no danger but the fear of anyone else holding her just consumed her for a moment. “I didn't realize that you had a son, is he with you?”

“He died, and my husband followed shortly after.” The desire to snatch her child away quickly faded with the knowledge that Daenerys had lost a child. Even though Sansa had been a mother for less than a week, she could not imagine what it would be like to suffer Alayne's loss. Sansa was no stranger to death but her daughter's death would destroy her beyond all the others. As she thought on it, Catelyn and Rickon have been dead almost a year to the day, Robb and her father only a few months considering. So much has changed in that time. “When I burned my husband on his funeral pyre, I burned along with him, and the witch who killed him. With her sacrifice, my dragons were born. They are my children, now. Either way, I have my family. You and I are linked in that regard you know.”

“I don't understand.”

“Jon. He was the first gift your husband sent to me and has been with me for almost a year now” With the birth of Alayne and Jon's sudden reappearance in her life, it was difficult to link everything together. Jon had deserted the Wall only a few months after they were married and mere weeks after they arrived in King's Landing. “He speaks highly of you, you know. My nephew loves you like a sister and that makes you family. He told me what happened to you. I'm sorry. What the Usurper did to you, it is something that will always linger under your skin.”

“You were raped.” Sansa had always known that there were other women out there who had suffered the same type of brutality as her. However, she had never really met them. She never had someone who truly understood the pain she was in. “What happened to him? The man who harmed you?”

“It happened on my wedding night and it was my husband.” Sansa balanced but Daenerys pressed on. “I was thirteen and my brother sold me to a Dothraki Khal. The Dothraki are a brutal sort of men. Over time, after I became Drogo's queen or Khaleesi as they call it, I know that I was bound to him. I made him love me and eventually, I grew to love him in return.” That was something Sansa could never understand. She had loved Joffrey once but his treatment of her caused her to only hate him. It was as though Daenerys was Sansa herself but only in reverse. They both suffered similar traumas but their outcome was different. “When we heard of Joffrey Baratheon's murder, Jon knew you had done it and he was proud of you. It made me curious about you.”

“If I'm not speaking out of turn Your Grace, I have to say that I am curious about you too.” It was true. She had always heard of the Dragon Queen who reigned in Meereen. No one thought she would cross the Narrow Sea to take back the Iron Throne; but she had. She had come back and it was on the grace of her husband. “Petyr always kept secrets but he never lied to me. I knew he was working towards something, from nearly the moment I met him. He gathered the Kingdoms in such a way that they have no choice but to bow to you. He bankrupted the Seven Kingdoms in order to turn both high born families and low born alike against the crown and the Lannister family. People had died because of the game he played for you. All I want to know is the woman who sparked such loyalty in my husband.” 

“While Petyr Baelish has been a crucial ally to me for many years, you have nothing to be jealous of, I promise you. He is the most devoted to you. When he opened the gates for me it was the first time I had ever met him. Years of correspondence, updates and knowledge of his schemes to make the Seven Kingdoms ready for me to take were nothing more than to turn the Iron Throne back over to the rightful family – to me.”

Daenerys Targaryen may have been the Queen in this complicated game of chess, but she should never forget the criss-crossing bishop that placed her there. Baelish was the grandmaster of the game and his scheme was the perfect play; a Boden's Mate.

“I trust my husband, but you must understand I'm slightly cross with him. He left me while I was giving birth to his daughter for you.” That caused Daenerys to chuckle and her laugh simply lit up a room.

“Jon always did say you were far more intelligent than those around you gave you credit for. When Lord Baelish spoke to me, briefly after the gates were open, he spoke only of you. He wanted to return back to you.” That made her slightly startled. After years of scheming and working towards one goal, when the final moment is upon him, Baelish spoke of her. He didn't ask for a reward, acknowledgment or gratitude; instead he spoke of his wife and the child she was bringing into the world. “When Jon first came to me, I didn't believe the story he had spun. If it wasn't for the letter he had in his possession that your husband gave him, I never would have. It was a letter written in my dead brother's hand. A letter about his love for Lyanna Stark and the child she carried.”

Baelish never told Sansa of a letter that he had given Jon. A memory resurfaced. When Sansa looked back onto the day of her wedding, she always remembered taking Baelish has her husband. The memory of a man bursting through the wooden doors, screaming that the King was dead played a second thought. Yet, now, she remembered staring down at the fallen snow as her bath was being drawn; her mother begging her to close the window. Yet, her gaze was focused on a furious Jon pacing back and forth while her soon-to-be husband leaning against the stone wall. Did Jon have a letter on him then? Sansa wasn't sure.

“Of course when Ser Barristan joined us, Jon had already been with us for several weeks. I had grown to trust him but Ser Barristan knew my brother. He knew of his kindness and his love for his people. Most importantly, he knew my brother's hand. He confirmed the letter to be true.” Another memory came to then. Baelish had taken Sansa to a small tavern that Ser Barristan Selmy was hiding in when Tyrion Lannister removed him from his position in the King's Guard. Baelish must have known that Daenerys would doubt Jon's word and a letter could easily be a forgery, for Baelish had forged letters before. If Ser Barristan could confirm that Jon was Rhaegar Targaryen's son, then Ser Barristan was needed in Meereen. “Jon is my blood and your husband returned him to me. Jon is your blood too. That makes you family to me. I hope one day you feel the same.”

“I'm sure over time we will grow to know one another but I feel that you know more about me than I know about you.” It was strange to realize that Daenerys was coming to her not as a queen but as family. Baelish always said that he knew he needed to marry Sansa for the North before he met her. She wondered if he knew that it would link him to the Dragon Queen in such a way. She knew her husband and knew that it must have crossed his mind.

“Jon spoke of you and your sister often. When he learned of your family's death, he was devastated. He wanted all the Lannister's head on a spike. When Tyrion joined us, Jon nearly ran him through. However Lord Varys intervened and I have grown to trust Tyrion. Once Tommen is taken care of, whether he bows to me or a less than fortunate outcome happens, Tyrion will become Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West.” Tyrion Lannister, an old argument between Sansa and Baelish. He always told her that he was important but never really explained why. She pushed and pushed yet he never told her. Now, it was as though every secret he held from her were being laid at her by the biggest secret of them all. “I never thought about what would happen to the West when I took the throne but your husband did. He knew that we would need at least one Lannister alive to have the Westerlands bow.”

“You hate the Lannisters as much as I do.”

“Tywin Lannister was the reason why my niece and my brother's wife were slaughtered. I wanted to trust no Lannister. But then Lord Varys hand delivers me one and you must understand, I've trusted Lord Varys after my wedding to Drogo. My man Jorah told me of his contact in King's Landing. He told me of the bounty King Robert put out on my head and how Lord Varys and Lord Baelish placed it, knowing that it would be foiled. It was then I began to trust them and how they were already working to hand me the crown.” She paused then and Sansa only listened. It was as though the holes she was missing were being placed in front of her. “Lord Varys was able to save my nephew. Not Jon, sorry for the confusion, but Aegon. He wasn't murdered as the world believes. Lord Varys kept him safe and for that I will always be thankful.”

“Why are you telling me all this?”

“Because like you said, I know far more about you than you do about me. You mean something to Jon and that is important to me.” Daenerys reached out and took Sansa's hand into hers. “And if you're anything like me at all, then I know that you have so many questions. You want to know what led you to this moment. You want to understand the game you played and why Baelish chose you long before he laid eyes on you.” Alayne whimpered then. Both women looked down at the small child. “When he chose you, it might have been a political match in his mind but know that he has grown to care for you. Deeply. When he let us into King's Landing and the first thing that came through his lips was that you were in labor, I knew how much you meant to him. You and that little girl are what he was fighting for in the end. Not me.”

“Thank you.”

“Like I said, we are family or at least will be one day.” Daenerys chuckled again and reached down to Alayne one last time. Alayne grasped the Queen's finger tightly; as though she was holding on for dear life. “I should let you rest. The next few days are going to be difficult and I hope to have both you and your husband by my side.”

“Jon trusts you. Petyr trusts you and over time, I hope that we do become the family you want us to be.” With that Daenerys nodded. The Queen knew that Sansa wouldn't trust her right away but she knew that Sansa was the key. She was the North but more importantly, she held both Baelish and Jon. Beyond that, in the few moments they spoke, Daenerys could feel herself liking the young woman. “Thank you for coming to see me Your Grace.”

With that, Daenerys turned to leave. She opened the chamber door, revealing Baelish standing behind it. The door had been firmly shut so Sansa couldn't be sure if he knew what was said between the two of them. If he didn't Sansa was certain that he would press her to tell him. Sansa wouldn't say a word and she felt that it served him right. They had been married for almost a year and a half and he kept more secrets from her than she could count. She felt she deserved this one.

“Oh, and one last thing, your sister, Arya, she is free to return to King's Landing if she chooses. However, if she is headed where I think she is then, it may be some time before she returns. Just know that when she does, she will be welcomed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can we talk about Dany and Jon for a second. I'm not sure how I feel about that. In the show it is clear that there are feelings there and they are end game but I just don't know. For Boden, it wouldn't work because Jon is being presented as her nephew. She knows him as her nephew. 
> 
> What do you think?
> 
> Also, this chapter kind of brings the title in to play. Boden's Mate is a chess move were a few bishops make "criss crossing" moves across the board in order to checkmate the king, or in this case the Lannisters. He had won the game. He is the grandmaster (I almost named this The Grandmaster). 
> 
> Thoughts?


	115. Chapter 115

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,
> 
> I really wanted to get a chapter up today due to the final being tonight. Whatever happens, I wanted us all to have something good to read and enjoy before we are subjected to tonight's shit. I know a couple of authors have updated their work today as well so I hope we have plenty of wonderful things to read.
> 
> Hold on tight guys, we can survive this!

Chapter One Hundred and Fifteen

Days moved forward. The few riots that had broken out because of Daenerys conquering King's Landing ended easily. Ser Barriston Selmy led the charge but most people accepted Tommen's fall and welcomed the Targaryen dynasty back. Baelish's work with bankrupting the kingdoms in order to have the lower classes and the high families turn against the crown had worked. It was a long scheme, one that took many years but it finally was bringing the end that he had been hoping for.

Everything was falling into place. Daenerys was Queen and the noble families accepter her as their queen and the lower classes hung banisters with the three headed dragon as though the Mad King had never been murdered. This is what he had worked for. He killed, schemed, fucked and bankrupted everything just so that the Lannisters would fall. Baelish remembered when Varys had come to him, shortly after Jon Arryn had appointed him as Master of Coin, to welcome him to King's Landing. In that moment, Baelish knew he would never fully be able to trust the eunuch; but he was intrigued. He dug and dug until he found the other man's motivation.

Petyr Baelish knew that he wanted to play that game. He never wanted the throne for himself. He wanted to rise high but being King would expose him as a target. He liked to work behind the scenes. However, the thrill of toppling a government was too much to turn away form. It wasn't that he thought Daenerys would be a better ruler that much was obvious, but it was the fact that he loved chaos. He wanted to create that chaos. He wanted to thrive on it. So he schemed. He played the most dangerous game and now he was the victor. He was the grandmaster in this game of chess and he enjoyed every moment of it.

Yet, now it was over. The high from the years of plotting and the climax of Daenerys conquering were falling quickly. What surprised Baelish about himself was that he didn't really care. He had thought that he would feel bored once he won but he didn't. He was actually relieved and he knew it was because he now had something to lose. In the beginning, it was just him. If he lost or was caught, he would be put to death, but he didn't care. He had worked for every ounce of riches he had but they didn't mean anything to him.

Sansa and Alayne were everything to him. For the first time in living memory, Baelish had a family. He had a wife whom he worshiped. Sansa gave him a meaning to life. When he looked at her, Baelish felt a pull and a light that had never been there before. While he knew that neither would ever be able to confess to depth of their feelings for one another, it just wasn't something either was capable of, they knew the truth. It was in the actions and the way they were with each other. The words really meant nothing. Sansa wasn't the young girl she once was. She didn't want pretty words that meant nothing. She was someone who needed to be shown a man's emotions. Words could be taken back; actions could not.

Then there was his newborn daughter. He had never felt a pull towards another living human being like he did with Alayne; not even with Sansa. The sun rose and set upon her. He would do anything to protect her even if it meant going beyond the small line he set for himself. Baelish knew that there wasn't much he wouldn't do. However, the few things that even Baelish himself wouldn't do didn't matter. If anyone was willing to harm his daughter; there was nothing that would stop him from hunting them down and causing them an extreme amount of pain.

He watched over Alayne as he sat behind his desk in his solar. The last few days had been chaotic for everyone. Daenerys had been working toward setting up her reign to rule and while mostly everyone was blissful at the idea of a new reign, it still was difficult and needed to be ironed out; the royal accounts were one of them. No matter who the new Queen was, the Seven Kingdoms were still bankrupt. Daenerys had known this going in and now Baelish was faced with the task of fixing the financial status that he ruined himself. He had contacts at the Iron Bank and he was sure they would be more than willing to broker a deal with the Dragon Queen.

“Well aren't you a sneaky bastard?” The door to his solar, which was currently located in his personal chambers. When Sansa became with child, he wanted to be close when he was in the Red Keep. He knew that he would spend hours in his solar in order to continue to work. Now, it was clear despite the desire to not be disturbed during work hours meant nothing when someone was determined.

“Seems that the Queen of Thorns is rather prickly this morning.” Baelish snapped and leaned back into his chair. His infamous leer was securely in place. His eyes trailed over Olenna and he was actually surprised that it took her this long to corner him. He knew it was coming but it must have taken her a few days to discover Baelish's role in the dethroning of Tommen and her granddaughter being thrown in the Black Cells; positioned for execution if the new Queen felt inclined. Truth be told, after what Margaery had done with Arya, Baelish didn't care if Daenerys called for the former Queen's head or not.

“I'm not in the mood for your snark this early whoremonger.” Olenna snapped. She was furious. She was dressed in her normal clothing, covered from head to toe. Her gown was purple and the headdress she wore on top of her head was in a lighter shade. Her grandson, Loras, stood at her shoulder looking as though he would like to run Baelish through with his sword. “I spent the last few days trying desperately to figure a way to save Margaery from a certain death only to discover the role you had to play in her imprisonment. Tell me, did you imagine her death when we played chess at Highgarden two years ago?”

“Did I know that Daenerys Targaryen would make her way across the Narrow Sea to claim her throne? Yes. Did I know that Margaery would not sit upon the throne forever? Yes. Did I plan for it? Most certainly. I needed a bride who could control both Joffrey and later Tommen. Margaery was most suited for that. I also needed most of the Seven Kingdoms in my control for when she came. Do you honestly believe I traveled around the country for a year just to collect taxes? Or that King Robert even suggested that? No. He was a fool. Joffrey was a fool and Tommen was too young and naive to be King. I needed the Reach, a marriage contract between Margaery and the throne gave me that.”

“You don't have the Reach.”

“Don't I?” Olenna said nothing. Beneath her anger, she could see the mastery in his plan. He bankrupted the kingdoms and the high families so they would turn against the throne. He needed the poor to starve so they would welcome a monarch who would feed them. All the while, he took hold of the financial status of Westeros and maneuvered it so he could go to each section of the country under the disguise of collecting gold all the while, wheeling and dealing his way into a beautiful position. He needed alliances and leverage; and Olenna Tyrell played right into his hands.

“No.”

“Think on it for a moment. You and I struck a deal when your son agreed to a marriage between Joffrey and Margaery. While the secret that Joffrey raped my wife never really reached the North, it was certainly known in the Capital. You have eyes and ears here so you certainly would have heard of it. Margaery is your favorite grandchild and the idea that she would be married to such a monster concerned you. I used that. You made me promise that I would protect Margaery. I kept that end of the bargain when we orchestrated Joffrey's murder. Once Joffrey was no longer an issue, that part of the deal was null and void.”

“Again, that does not mean you have the Reach. It means you have nothing.” Olenna snapped. She was one of the smartest women in the Seven Kingdoms and she was rarely outplayed. The fact that Baelish had her in a corner infuriated her. She would do anything to save Margaery. She was the only grandchild who had her mind. The rest, including Loras, were fools.

“Oh but I do. See, as much as Sansa is the key to the North, Margaery is the key to the Reach. No matter how frustrated and angry I am at her for the stunt she pulled with Arya, I recognize that I need her alive. If she died then the Reach would no longer be willing to continue with peace.” That much was obvious. Baelish didn't care if the Reach was at peace with the new throne. A few months ago he would have depended upon it. However, plans change. The rest of the Seven Kingdoms would fall into a line, he assured it, and the Reach would have no choice but to follow. He wanted to avoid a war so soon after Daenerys took the throne, but the pain Margaery had caused Sansa was beyond anything he was willing to forgive. If only Olenna didn't have one more thing that Baelish needed. “All Queen Daenerys wants is peace.”

“If Margaery dies, there will be no peace.”

“Which gives us all the power” All heads turned toward the solar door. Sansa stood there with a squirming Alayne in her arms. His daughter appeared to be fussy. By what everyone stated who met Alayne, they claimed that she appeared to be an easy child. She only cried when she was hungry but the moment Sansa fed her, she was happy. She fussed when she was tired but would fall asleep easily.

Sansa moved into the solar easily and Alayne whimpered in her arms. She wasn't crying but it was clear that she wasn't happy. Baelish stood and moved around his desk towards his wife. He reached out and took the small child from her mother's arms. He rested Alayne against his chest and gently moved back and forth in hopes to sooth her.

“I had just gotten her down for her morning nap and the raised voices woke her. So, we decided to investigate.” Sansa replied with a soft smile. Olenna watched the interaction and couldn't deny that Baelish was bestowed with his daughter. Sansa's smile was something she hadn't seen before. She had never seen a soft side to her; for she had always been too cunning and hard. Olenna knew that children would soften any woman's heart; even her own. Olenna loved her children despite the fact that she found all of them to be idiotic. “I supposed, Lady Olenna that we could help you. Although my feelings towards Margaery are not too kind at the moment.”

“I will admit that the unpleasantness with the Cersei and Arya affair was unwise. My granddaughter should have known better. She was blinded by hatred and anger. If I would have been here, that never would have occurred.” Olenna had been at the Reach when Margaery decided to go after Cersei. Margaery was intelligent but she was also young; only a few years older than Sansa herself.

“But you weren't here and now Arya has been banished.”

“Yes yes. I was at Highgarden and Margaery did something foolish but does she deserve to die for it? If I'm not mistaken this Dragon Queen has pardoned your sister and she is welcome back at court. Something about Cersei Lannister’s murder was a service to the crown.” Olenna snapped and her eyes narrowed. “You have no reason to be angry at my granddaughter anymore; especially when you ripped everything away from her.”

“Again, I said I could help you. My brother Jon has been with Queen Daenerys for the last year and they have grown very close.” She had only seen the two of them interact once but it was obvious that there was trust between them. Daenerys relied on him just as she relied on Jorah Mormont, a man Sansa concluded had deep feelings for the new Queen. Whether or not a romance between Jon and Daenerys would form was unclear but what was obvious was Jorah's fear on the matter.

“Ah yes, the bastard son of Rhaegar Targaryen and your aunt Lyanna. Strange how different that story has now turned.” Olenna snapped. Before she had never cared whether or not Lyanna Stark was kidnapped and raped; yet it seemed that it was the key to everything. It was now being professed as one of the greatest love stories in all the Seven Kingdoms. Yet, Sansa saw what it truly was; Robert Baratheon raging war out of jealousy over a woman he hardly knew. “I take it the new Queen is not going uphold the tradition of executing those who desert the Wall. Tell me, Wardeness, are you?”

Sansa had forgotten that over the last few days that Jon had once been Commander of the Night's Watch. It was unclear what Daenerys had planned for the men who took the black. Jon had spoken of horrors that lived beyond the Wall and her father once said of the dead that would rise. However, that war was fought long ago and the Night King killed; for good. It was nothing more than a fairy tale to Sansa but for Jon, it was very real. Whether or not Daenerys took those concerns to heart was no concern of Sansa's for the time being.

“I will do what my Queen commands me to do.” Her mind flashed to the war look her father had worn when he returned to Winterfell after his time defending the Wall. He mentioned that he almost had them moved from Winterfell to Riverrun in case the White walkers made it over the wall. Fortunately, that was never needed. “I will help Margaery for the sole purpose that she was a good friend of mine for the majority of the time I was in King's Landing. We murdered a man together. Despite her betrayal, that is something that creates a bond.” Olenna began to speak but Sansa held up her hand. “However, I'm sure that it will come with a price. I will help Margaery on the condition that you give us something that we want.”

“We helped you break Arya Stark out of the Black Cells with no ultimatum.” Olenna reminded.

“Margaery was attempting to fix her mistake because of the threat of blackmail hanging over her head.” Said Baelish, who was still silent, would have ruined the entire Tyrell line if Margaery didn't comply. They had no choice. However, Olenna didn't have the power to do the same. All of Sansa and Baelish's sins, at least the ones Olenna was aware of, were known to Daenerys. In fact, those sins were done in her name and neither Sansa nor Baelish would be punished for them.

“What do you want?”

“I'm sure my husband has something in mind.” Both women turned to look at Baelish who appeared to not even be paying attention. However, Olenna and Sansa knew better; he heard every word. He was looking down at Alayne who appeared to be smiling. Sansa insisted that she was too young for such a development and that she simply had gas but Baelish was insistent that his daughter was a genius and was simply ahead for the game. He was enraptured with her.

“Renly Baratheon.” Olenna and Sansa both startled. Sansa had forgotten about him. It was a name that she has not heard in many months and completely forgotten that he had existed. She thought back and the only memory she had of them speaking of him was shortly after they came to King's Landing. She knew that he fled with his niece Shireen, when Stannis had been arrested for treason. Stannis knew that King Joffrey was going to have him executed and he wanted to save his daughter.

“Excuse me?” Olenna had gone still. Very still.

“Renly Baratheon has not been seen or heard of in many months. Last known whereabouts was him fleeing King's Landing with his niece.” Baelish paused and looked down at Alayne who was now asleep in his arms. “When I was working to bring Daenerys over in order for her to regain the throne, I knew that there were certain members of each high born family that would have to remain in order for her to keep each kingdom in line. Sansa's and my children will continue on and keep the Stark blood and name alive for the North.” That made Sansa smile that perhaps, one day they would have a child that would they would gift the North too with the sole purpose of continuing the Stark legacy.

“So?”

“Most people know of my....displeasure with Tyrion Lannister. He promised to keep Joffrey on a leash and away from my wife. He failed. Sansa was harmed and if it had been anyone else, I would have put him in the ground. Tyrion became a source on contention between me and my wife.” Sansa remembered the many fights they had over Tyrion and the secret he kept surrounding him. “However, I kept him alive. I even clothed him and gave him shelter when Joffrey banished him.” Baelish paused, waiting for some reply from Olenna. She gave none. “The Lannisters would fall, one by one but I needed at least one to stay alive in order to control the Westerlands. Sansa has the North. Your grandson Willas Tyrell is heir to the Reach when your son dies. Each kingdom has someone controlling their land, except the Stormlands.”

“You want me to find Renly Baratheon so he can take his rightful place as head of the Baratheon name?” It was clever once Sansa thought on it. Her frustration and anger with Baelish when it came to Tyrion suddenly became clear. He was needed for the end. His death would have been easily arranged but then who would control the Westerlands once Daenerys came to Westeros. Myrcella? Possible but what happened when she married or if Daenerys didn't spare her? “What happens when the new Queen wants to kill the entire Baratheon line? It is no secret that she hated King Robert, feeling that he stole her rightful place on the throne.”

“Daenerys is willing to overlook Renly's family ties due to the fact that he was young when Robert raged war against her father. She does not blame a man for his brother's actions, especially when he had no hand in it. The same goes for Shireen.” Baelish smirked then. “And I do not believe that you will have to look too hard. See, Joffrey searched for Renly. He sent men to Storm’s End but neither Renly nor Shireen were there. Where would they go? Perhaps the man whom Renly had been in a relationship with lent a hand.”

All eyes focused on Loras.

“I don't know where Renly is....” Loras trailed off and shuffled his feet. Lie. Loras knew exactly where Renly was. He loved him. Baelish's man Olyvar had been keeping Loras' bed warm and in the process informed Baelish many insights into the Tyrell family; including Loras' love for Renly. While she knew that Loras was sleeping with Olyvar, she had completely forgotten about Renly; yet it was clear that Loras still loved him. She wondered how a man could profess to love someone but then simply sleep with someone else. Either way, she mused, it didn't matter. If Loras knew where Renly was and Baelish wanted Renly, then Sansa would only pull Margaery from the Black Cells once Renly was in hand.

“It’s strange. When Renly fled King's Landing, Joffrey had sent men to Storm’s End, assuming that he would run to his ancestral home. He didn't. After a time, I began to believe that Renly would turn to the one person he trusted in order to protect himself and his niece. My sources tell me that he has been living comfortably at Highgarden. Even having morning tea with the Queen of Thorns when she is in attendance.” Baelish paused for a moment. “Return Renly to the capitol and my wife will use her connections to ensure that Margaery avoids execution.”

“What do you want with him?” Loras asked in a scratchy voice. It was clear that he thought that he was being forced to choose between his sister and the man he loved. Renly or Margaery. It was obvious which one mattered more to him.

“Nothing scandalous, I assure you.” By the look on Loras' face, it was clear that he didn't believe him. “It is for the same reason I needed Tyrion. I needed a Lannister at Casterly Rock, one that Queen Daenerys could trust. I also need a Baratheon, preferably one that had nothing to do with Robert's Rebellion. Renly was just a child then. He is innocent and Queen Daenerys recognizes that. He will be given Storm’s End and custody of his niece until she marries. That is it.”

It was obvious that neither Loras nor Olenna fully believed what Baelish was saying. Even as he held his infant daughter in his arms, the words he spoke could be all lies. The only person who would know would be Sansa and she was far too loyal to her husband to ever betray his trust. Yet, Olenna and Loras found themselves in a tight position. Loras wasn't sure if he was able to hand Renly over; even if he had taken another man to bed. Olenna, while fond of Renly, did not have that problem. Loras knew that his grandmother would have Renly forcefully back in King's Landing within a fortnight.

“Fine.” The words escaped Loras’ lips through clenched teeth. He loved Renly but he also loved Margaery. If he didn't bring Renly to King's Landing, then it was clear that Margaery would be executed. There was also a chance that Renly would be pardoned and would be able to come out of hiding. While Loras and Renly's relationship would never be fully accepted, they would at least be able to be together; even if Renly would have to marry in order to continue the Baratheon line.

Beyond that, Olenna would have Renly in Kings Landing no matter his fate if it meant saving her favorite grandchild.

“Perfect.” Sansa all but purred. In that moment she missed the game. She missed that control. The last few months it was as though that control was slipping through their fingers with Arya's banishment, her family's murders, and all the other players on the board but now, it felt as though that control was coming back. Their place in the game was solidified and she knew that now was the perfect time to get out. With Harrenhal being completed and Alayne born, now would be the perfect time to tie up loose ends and retire; only playing the game when it suited them and from afar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loose ends are being tied up and the game is coming to a close for our favorite couple. I wanted them to have one last move before the end. I know that Renly was not a huge part of this story, really kind of a footnote but he is important; as was explained in this chapter.
> 
> Now Petyr's end game is fully on the table. If anyone has questions about it, please ask. It took forever to construct and it was majorly complicated. I hope that I did it justice and I hope I did Petyr justice. 
> 
> Also,
> 
> Once Boden is completed (which will be soon-four chapters left to post), I am going to be doing a S5-7 (maybe 8) rewrite of the show. I have S5 outline drafted and am working on S6. Each "Season" will get ten chapters to mirror the show. I am focusing on just the shitty storyline Petyr and Sansa got. Anyway, let me know if this is something you would want to read.


	116. Chapter 116

Chapter One Hundred and Sixteen

 

It only takes two weeks to travel from the Reach to King's Landing and Renly's arrival caused whispers to flow among the court. Many forgot about him, for his disappearance was merely a footnote in the ongoings of court. Much like the rest of the court, Sansa wanted a glimpse of the man that her husband ordered to be delivered from Highgarden. Renly was tall and lanky compared to his brother. Sansa had never met him before and had imagined him to be a spitting image of the drunken Robert Baratheon. However, he was built similar to Stannis but lacked the rigid posture. He was handsome, something Sansa had to admit. She never really got to speak directly with Renly but she saw him on a long stroll through the gardens with the new Queen; who she didn't see was Shireen. It was clear that the younger girl was left behind in Highgarden in case Renly wasn't pardoned; which luckily he was.

Renly was given Storm’s End as long as he didn't lay claim to the throne. Renly didn't want it but instead wanted to ensure Shireen's safety. Renly was granted custody of his niece until she was married or came of age. The news that Daenerys was not going to execute either of the last members of the Baratheon family was shocking and surprising. Many were still fearful that she was as cruel as her father and would murder Renly for being related to the man who rebelled against the Targaryen name. But, she had proven that she was not like the Mad King in many ways.

Life at court was shifting. At first, Sansa found it difficult to leave her chambers with Alayne because of the soreness in her body. In the two weeks that it took for Renly to travel from the Reach to King's Landing, Sansa felt stronger. The soreness was lifting and the weight she had gained was slowly falling away. She was able to roam the halls with her daughter being pushed in a small carriage. Lady, Nymeria and Greywind all trailed behind her for all three direwolves have grown attached and protective of the infant. Wherever Alayne was, one of the direwolves was by her side.

When she was able to finally venture from their personal chambers, the looks she received from the members of the court varied. Some looked at her with admiration for her part, even though small, in restoring Daenerys to the throne. Others pitied her for being married to someone who they viewed as a traitor. The worst were the whispers she heard when her back was turned. They called her a traitor. Those were words of the few who were still loyal to the Lannister’s reign.

Sansa did exactly what she had done when members of court believed her to have seduced Joffrey – she ignored them. They had no power anymore. Daenerys knew who was loyal to her throne and that Sansa was forced into that role. The truth was that she didn't even care who sat on that ugly chair; just as long as the Lannisters didn't. The Lannisters lost their power; all except Tyrion. While she would never trust him, he was by far the best of them all. The end was finally here and Sansa felt peace with that.

Despite the whispers and the struggle for those to adapt to a new Queen, Sansa forced herself not to care. She didn't have it inside her anymore. Instead, she strolled towards the small council chamber with a piece of parchment in her hand. The looks she received from members of the court, didn't matter. The only thing that did was the new council. She reached the throne room and passed the Iron Throne without a glance. When she reached the door that the small council stood behind, two Unsullied soldiers were perched on each side. They held out their hands to stop her from entering.

“I received a letter that would be of interest to the Queen or at least her hand.” She turned over the parchment and the Unsullied looked at the broken seal. “It was written to me.” Sansa snapped. The Unsullied read a few lines and checked to see that the letter didn't contain any sort of poison before opening the door. Sansa strolled forward to see several men surrounding a wooden table, including her husband; yet Daenerys was absent. Baelish did not seem remotely surprised to see Sansa interrupting a small council meeting. Jon stood at his sister's entrance.

“Sansa?” Jon asked. Sansa looked at each of their faces. There were some she recognized and others she didn't. Baelish was seated beside Varys who was whispering something into her husband's ear. Beside him was Tyrion who sat at the end of the table. He looked different; scruffier. His hair was darker and thicker. He had a beard now and appeared far more sober than she remembered. He must have come to terms with Shae's death from months earlier. Next to him were two men she had never seen before. One was older and looked as though he stepped out of the battlefield. The next was a clear relative of Daenerys. He was tall with shoulder length white hair. He had the same purple eyes. He was younger, close to Sansa's age from what she could tell. Jon's words about having a brother rang clear in her head.

This was Rhaegar Targayren's eldest son.

“I apologize for interrupting but I came to speak with the Queen. I received a letter today and I wanted to make her aware of it.” She shared a brief look with her husband. He knew exactly what that letter said. It wasn't anything extremely important but enough to get Sansa into the small council room. Sansa handed the parchment towards Jon who took it easily. He read over the words while Sansa simply briefed the others about its contents. “It appears that Roslin gave birth to a baby boy. My uncle states that neither would be able to travel at this time to bend the knee. They do however, proclaim Queen Daenerys as the true Queen and offer any alliance the Riverlands can give.”

“This is good.” Jon said. “Very good” He handed the letter over to Tyrion who wanted to read it. She could see them all thinking and the wheels in their heads turning. Sansa kept her face impassive. It was important for them to know her motive. It was a new territory for her. Those she had tried to fool in the past saw her to be innocent and naive; those in front of her now knew that she was far more than what she appeared. “Having the Riverlands behind us, the Reach won't be able to advance to far.”

“The Reach?”

“The Reach is rebelling against Khaleesi, although I am sure that it isn't something to concern you. Thank you for the letter, I'm sure it will be of use.” The man whom Sansa couldn't place replied. She narrowed her eyes at him. She knew that she didn't mean anything to this man but she wasn't just about to allow herself to be dismissed. She was about to defend herself against the blatant dismissal when Baelish spoke up for her.

“Come now Mormont, my wife is more than just beautiful. She also happens to be Wardeness of the North. Surely you would like to return to Bear Island at some point.” Sansa's eyes snapped towards the other man again. It took her a moment before she realized who he was. Jorah Mormont. She knew the name because she remembered her father speaking about him in the past. This was the man who was banished from the North because he was involved in the slave trade. How he came to associate with the Queen who was famous for freeing almost all of the slaves in Slavers Bay was beyond her. It did make her curious. “Do you not think that she deserves more respect than that?”

“My apologies, Wardeness” Sansa couldn't tell whether or not he meant his apologizes. What she could tell was that her husband didn't like the man. He wouldn't do anything for she knew that they were destined to head towards the Riverlands and Harrenhal soon. Baelish stated that he did what he needed and now it was time to step back. Part of the game was knowing when you won and backing out when you still had the chance. He rose higher than anyone of low birth has before and he wanted to keep that seat; especially now that they had Alayne to think of.

“Apologies accepted.” She gave him a small smile and strolled toward Baelish. She reached down and laced her fingers with his. She noticed that Tyrion leaned over and whispered something to Varys who rolled his eyes. Whatever they were saying was clearly about them and amusing. “I take it the Reach isn't taking the Queen's claim to the throne well?”

“No, they are not.” Varys replied. He cocked his head to the side. “Although the reason is obvious, isn't it?”

“Of course.” All eyes were on her and it made her almost feel sorry for their intelligence. “Forgive me; I forget that most of you haven't been in King's Landing long. Lady Margaery was a beloved Queen to many people. In fact most said she was the only redeeming quality for both King Joffrey and Tommen. The people would almost forgive Joffrey of everything as long as he had Margaery by his side. The Reach is particularly fond of her. If she is executed, you'll never have the Reach's support.”

“Then pray tell me, Lady Baelish, what would you have my aunt do?” The Targaryen spoke for the first time. His tone wasn't condescending or irritated. Instead, it was as though he was curious about her. It was as though those piercing purple eyes were deep inside of her. “Margaery was Queen for a time due to her marriage to Tommen. We can't just release her.”

“It has been many months since I've been in King's Landing, for you were barely pregnant at the time, congratulations by the way, but I do remember that you and Margaery were good friends.” Tyrion chimed up. He wore that all knowing look that he seemed to have. He no longer was that broken man who drank himself to sleep in some whore's bed. There were a few shadows behind his eyes that came from mourning Shae; whose murder occurred nearly nine months prior. “I'm sure that you would do anything to help her.”

“It is no secret that Sansa and Margaery were good friends but that was due to me requesting Sansa get close to her. I needed to keep a tight rein on the throne and that was done best through the Queen.” Baelish said, giving Tyrion a hard look. He never really forgave him for Joffrey's attack and Sansa knew that it would always linger in their relationship. “None of us would risk Daenerys’ claim to the throne but my wife makes a point, Margaery is the key to the Reach. She dies; Daenerys will have a far more difficult time as Queen.”

“That does not answer my questions of what she should do.”

“Well, Aegon. Perhaps we should think of some alternative route than execution.” Baelish replied and the rest were silent. They knew he was right. Even if the deal with Olenna hadn't been made, Margaery’s survival is the key. She couldn't die. Whether Sansa could ever forgive her, was irrelevant now. Arya would be welcome back to King's Landing as though she never committed a crime in the first place. Margaery's actions didn't matter anymore.

“Jon did say that you were an intelligent man.” Aegon replied. He was looking at both Sansa and Baelish with wary eyes. “Jon claimed that you always had a move to play and an alternative motive. He said that it was you who informed him of his true parentage. My aunt believes you because of everything that you've done for her. However, the things you've done make me believe that only a dishonorable man would do those things.”

“I've done many things in my life that would have made a lesser man cringe. I'm not a lesser man and I'm not a good one. I chose to offer my loyalty to Queen Daenerys because she would be a far better Queen for a world that I always wanted to live in.” Baelish admitted. He brought the back of Sansa's hand to his lips and kissed it. “I came from an insignificant house and was brutalized simply because I was of lesser birth. The woman I loved at the time only thought of me as a little brother and I nearly died because of it. In that moment, I vowed to rise high but the world I lived in didn't allow for that simply because of my birth. I defied the odds. I rose high but in a world with Robert Baratheon or a Lannister for a king would never allow for me to keep it. So, I picked a Queen that prides those who rise from nothing.”

“Beautiful poetry my old friend but does not answer whether or not the Prince can trust you.” Varys added in that tone that always made Sansa realize how many secrets the eunuch carried. It seemed that Varys knew more than he was willing to say; he always had. “You have to admit that you do make it very difficult to trust you. How Lady Baelish manages it is a mystery to everyone.”

“I have missed your teasing Lord Varys.” Sansa gave him a tight smile. “I trust my husband completely.”

“My wife's trust in me is not the issue at hand but apparently the Queen's.” Baelish looked directly at Aegon when he spoke his next words. “I want you to understand that I've done terrible things. All of you know it and I'm not foolish enough to attempt to deny it; but understand this. It's not just me who I have to think of. I wanted a monarch who would make Westeros better for all, not just the high lords. I won't lie and say I did it all out of the kindness of my heart. It was for truly selfish reasons. However, now I have Alayne. My daughter will have the best of everything and that is because the Queen will allow it.”

“You're far too humble. You've reached your rank all on your own.” Varys said, praising him. While there would never be complete trust between the two, Sansa knew that Varys admired her husband. He knew where Baelish's loyalties lie. At first, it was with himself and now it was with all those who share his family name.

“But how long would I have stayed in such a position and rank with a Lannister on the throne?” No one answered. “My loyalty is not an issue. I will do what is best for my daughter and Daenerys is what is best for her. What you should be focused on is the Reach and forcing them back in line. We have the remaining kingdoms, that the Reach would be crushed for they are not known for their military tactics.”

“That is true.” Tyrion replied and Aegon's eyes snapped toward the dwarf. “The North has bent the knee through Lady Baelish and so has the Vale through her husband. You ensure that Lord Hardying will not be an issue once they take over?” Tyrion asked Baelish, who simply nodded. “Perfect. Then there is the Stormlands that are not an issue due to Renly's reappearance and I assure that the Westerlands will do their part. Even Asha Greyjoy as bent the knee. Dorne of course is overjoyed. The Son of Elia Martel being alive and well.”

“Six of seven kingdoms are not whole.” Mormont added. “Whether or not Margaery Tyrell is released from the dungeons, it will not appease the Reach. They got used to have her on the throne. They adore her. Unfortunately she cannot be executed. So how do we appease them?” It was as though he sounded bitter. It was clear that he assumed that once Daenerys took the throne, all would fall into place. He never once thought that the kingdom would love another Queen as much as he loved her.

“We put her on the small council.” All heads turned towards the door to see Daenerys standing there and then they rose to stand in her presence. There were two people at each shoulder. Ser Barriston stood on one side and small girl of an exotic descent on the other. She turned to smile at the small girl who couldn't be any older than the age of twelve. “Missandei, you're excused.” The young girl smiled and turned on her heels.

“Khaleesi.” Mormont started but Daenerys held up her hand and the older man halted his speech. While Mormont had openly dismissed Sansa, it was clear that he respected Daenerys far more, even though they were the same in age. They both were strong woman but Sansa had more of a political mind while Daenerys was a conqueror. They both were beautiful but Sansa held darkness to her that Daenerys could never reach.

“Please. Sit.” They obeyed her wishes. “Ser Barriston and I were just visiting the city. Most welcomed me, even though many of their people died during my invasion. It was mostly because they had no choice. I got to see them. I made promises and I plan on living up to them.” She moved closer to the table that held the small council. She placed her palms against the wood. “It is true that the people loved Margaery Tyrell. They asked about her, they asked their new Queen about the old one. I could see the respect and love they had for her.”

“They love you too, Your Grace.”

“They don't know me Lord Varys, not yet.” She looked at each of their faces and when reached Sansa, it took everything that she had to keep her face impassive. “You and Margaery were great friends?” Sansa nodded in agreement. “Then you know what she did for this city. Everywhere I turned there was an imprint of her. An orphanage that she built or a simple vegetable cart – she made it her mission to better this city and whether it was out of selfish gain or genuine concern, I don't care. She is gifted and we can use that.”

“Do you think that is wise?” Tyrion asked. Daenerys gave him a piercing look but allowed him to continue. “If you put Margaery Tyrell on this council, there are many who may never truly look at you as the true queen. Like you said, Margaery has a talent for imprinting herself upon whatever kingdom she is in. She leaves a mark and people love her. They may continue to love her and never view you as their Queen.”

“I am meant to rule the Seven Kingdoms. I was born to rule them.” There was a brief glance that was shared between Daenerys, Jon and Aegon and it made Sansa curious. What family drama was held there? “But I want my kingdoms to prosper. Having the Reach in an open rebellion will not be allowed to happen. They have the most fertile lands and we need them. We need her and we need her talents at caring for those who are less than fortunate. If that means that people will love her more than me, well I'm not that vain.”

“It could potentially allow for future rebellion. She would be a martyr of sorts.” Mormont replied. There was a sharp intake of breath from both Aegon and Jon. The two men were glaring daggers at Mormont. There was a story there, one that Sansa would enjoy asking Jon about another time. “All I am saying is that it would be best not to trust her.”

“She will be granted the same amount of trust that I give you.” The words were final and harsh. Daenerys turned to Sansa. “You were friends with her. Your husband said that at one point you were her only confidant. She told you of Joffrey's abuse and it wasn't until Cersei's murder and your sister's involvement that the trust was lost between you.”

“That is correct, Your Grace.”

“Make her listen to you. Make her bend the knee. If she does then I will pardon her and give her seat on this council. She will care for the less fortunate. She will make sure that they have everything they need. The Reach will fall into line. Unfortunately I will not be able to spare her husband. Tommen will be executed. She best know that before she decides.”

“Margaery married Tommen because she was told to. She’s smart and will save herself and her family before Tommen. She cares for him so she will feel his loss but she will do what needs to be done. I'll make sure of it.” In her mind, Sansa already began planning her words to Margaery. She felt that she was certain that she could convince Margaery to bend the knee.

“Good.”

“If she doesn't? What will happen if she doesn't?”

“Then she will die and I'll be faced with a Kingdom in open rebellion. The consequences of that will not be pleasant but I've had worse. So have you.” Sansa and Daenerys shared a look; an understanding. Sansa was the first to look down – at her hand that was still linked with Baelish’s. “The two of us are alike, broken, raped and defiled but strong. We overcame our misery and many shook in our wake. If Margaery is as smart as you believe her to be, then perhaps I can respect her almost as much as I do you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple things:
> 
> In my original outline, Margaery dies. I have her executed alongside her husband. However, Margaery is one of my top five favorites. It was hard for me to do it and I feel that she has better uses. 
> 
> Second, Dani respects Sansa so much because Jon has told her many stories about Sansa. Not to mention, she respects and understand what Sansa went through. She sees that she is strong. 
> 
> Also, there will be no Jon Snow/Dani romance here. They both know that they are related and while Targaeryns are famous for incest, it just isn't happening in this story. 
> 
> I have also completed this story. There will be 120 chapters and the rest are with my beta. You will have a few more chapters but I do want you to know that the story has been completely written at this point. Do not fret though, I am going to do a one shot series. It won't be updated regularly but whenever I feel the urge, I will have that. Mainly because letting go of Boden is really hard for me.
> 
> And lastly, as some of you know that I was planning on a modern Sansa/Petyr story, that has been placed on hold. Instead, my beta and I are working on a rewrite of season 5-8. It will be about 40 chapters long (or I might break it up into separate stories, 10 chapters each-haven't decided yet). The outline is pretty much completed and some of the first chapter is written. The last season was shit. Not because Petyr died (although that was hard) it was how they killed him. It was the entire season that was just bad.
> 
> So we're fixing it.


	117. Chapter 117

Chapter One Hundred and Seventeen

The waves crashed against the stone rocks. Sansa's hands were flat against the red rock as she stared out at the crashing waves, not really seeing them. It was bright and beautiful. Yet it wasn't the sun or the waves she focused on. It was the three flying figures that weaved above the water. One thing Sansa never thought she would see was dragons.

Yet they were real. They were flying in front of her and it almost changed everything she ever believed in. She had been living in darkness for so many years but suddenly, she might have the chance to be free. She wasn't a fool to believe that life from now on would be easy. Simply because they had a new queen didn't mean that people suddenly changed. The game would continue and the wheel would always turn. Even when she took her daughter and husband to Harrenhal, life and the game in King's Landing would always exist.

She also wasn't foolish enough to believe that Baelish would leave it behind. The game was such a huge part of him, and she would never take it away, she couldn't. He played the game for the chaos of it and she wouldn't change that part of him. Even from his solar in Harrenhal, Baelish would be pulling strings sitting behind his desk. He didn't need to be present for the world to bend to his will. A thousand miles away and he still could be one of the most powerful men alive.

If she hadn't been attracted to him before, that idea only made him far more desirable. At one point in her life the idea of a brave knight fresh from battle was the ideal man. Now, it was the man who with the stroke of his quill could start a war or end one. Baelish held the lives of thousands of men in his hand and there were very few men who realized it. Even now with the Dragon Queen on the throne, Baelish still held more power than anyone she had ever met. She wouldn't take that from him; for if Baelish didn't have that power, then he wouldn't be her husband.

Then there was the part of herself that knew she couldn't leave that power behind. The game was just a part of her as it ever would be. She would continue to play and she would teach her daughter to do the same. Sansa was raised in a home that was meant to protect its daughters. Winterfell would always be her home in many ways but it made her naive. She never wanted Alayne to suffer the way she did. She never would allow her to be harmed in such a way.

If she was, she knew that Baelish would burn the man who harmed her alive. Anyone who laid a hand on her daughter or any other child she bore would suffer a fate worse than death. She wondered how her new Queen would feel about such things. It was rumored that Daenerys would never have another living child, other than her dragons. She wondered if that was true or just rumors that were spread around.

Whispers were to be expected. She was new. She took the throne in a way that was only told in stories; by fire and blood. Many thought that the Targaryens were dead and finished. Many refused to call her Queen and would suffer the consequences. Yet, she had won, whatever the masses had said meant nothing if Daenerys sat upon the throne, Baelish had wanted her to be Queen so he made it so. If anyone wanted to oppose her, Baelish would put it end to it before Daenerys even heard word of it.

Unless it was Baelish who wanted to dethrone her.

“Lady Baelish.” She turned and saw two Unsullied soldiers standing there and behind him was a sickly looking Margaery. Her hair was down and tangled. The dress she wore was days old and torn. It must have been the gown she wore when she was forcefully pulled from her chambers and thrown into one of the black cells. Sansa could see her blink and raise her hand to the sun. She winced and looked down. The fact that she was coming directly out into the sun from a place so dark must be disorienting. For a moment, Sansa felt as though she should have thought of the pain she might feel.

“Margaery, I'm glad you were able to join me.” As though she had a choice, Sansa thought. She was simply rotting on dirty stone floor of the black cells. Yet, Sansa wanted to be kind. Margaery had all the power and then she was stripped of it. Before the issue with Arya, she would have considered her a close friend. Now, the tables had turned and Sansa felt more charitable towards her.

“It was you who pulled me out?” The surprise in her tone was evident and Sansa took some satisfaction in that. She must have thought that it would be her grandmother or brother who would save her. She wasn't wrong. Olenna would move the whole world to protect her granddaughter. If it wasn't for Olenna, Sansa wasn't sure she would have made any move to save Margaery; old friend or no.

“We have much to discuss.” Sansa turned and waved her hand towards the table she had set up. There were massive amounts of food prepared and water at the ready. She had thought of serving tea or wine but knowing that Margaery must be thirsty after weeks of darkness seemed so much better. “Please, help yourself. I know you must be starving.”

Margaery needed no other invitation. She moved toward the table as quickly as she could and reached for the food. She fed herself as quickly as possible and it almost made Sansa feel guilty again. Margaery hadn't had food in weeks and the fact that she was starving wasn't a surprise. Margaery sat down in one of the chairs while licking her fingers, Sansa took the seat across from her as her old friend chugged a glass of water.

“Thank you.” Margaery whispered as she slowed down inhaling the food that was in front of her. She didn't look at Sansa at first but instead she took a few moments to gaze at the food that was on the table in front of her. She noticed that Sansa had ordered the former queen's favorite foods. Sansa wanted to make this an offer she couldn't refuse. In reality, she couldn't but she wanted to make it as sweet as possible. “Why pull me from my cell?”

“The Queen has a proposition for you.”

“I am the Queen.”

“You're Queen no longer.” Sansa looked directly into Margaery's eyes. It was imperative that she refrained from saying such things. They were surrounded by unsullied soldiers all of whom reported to Daenerys. If she wanted to succeed and stay alive, Margaery could lay no claim to the throne. If she continued to call herself Queen, everyone would question her loyalty. “The rightful Queen is Daenerys Targayren. It is best to get used to that.”

“You knew.” Margaery whispered; looking at her as though she was seeing her for the first time. “You knew the entirety of our friendship, didn't you? You knew that Daenerys was going to invade and you helped her! You claim that I betrayed you when I collaborated with Arya to kill Cersei when you were working this whole time against the throne!” Her voice grew harsh but she kept her tone low. Her eyes narrowed and there was a fury behind them.

“No. I didn't. I had no idea that she was going to fly her dragons across the Narrow Sea to King's Landing.” Sansa paused and gazed out at the waves. “I heard of her of course. Everyone had but she was nothing more than a fantasy a thousand miles away.” Margaery refused to break her gaze. “That was the only secret that Petyr kept from me. We fought about it a few times. I knew he was planning something. Even before I married him I knew that he was going to do something great.”

“Before you were married? So that means he knew what she was planning when he was in Highgarden. He arranged my marriage to Joffrey all the while planning to hand a different Queen the throne. He signed my death warrant all the while looking my grandmother in the eye. That bastard.” Margaery huffed. “And what role did you play in his little game? I'm sure you had a part, a role beyond being his dutiful wife. You're too good at this game to simply stand on the side while your husband makes all the decisions.”

“The North. That was my part.” Margaery looked at her in confusion. “Petyr needed all the Kingdoms in a certain position in order for Daenerys to take over. So he bankrupted them. It took years and he needed a way in to each region. You were the key to the Reach. I was to the North. He set you to marry Joffrey and then he planned to marry me in order to gain access to the North.” Sansa gave a slight chuckle. “He never intended for me to be this involved. He thought I would be some stupid child with a beautiful face. He thought I would be a wife who was none the wiser to his schemes. Then he met me and everything changed. He planned to marry me for the North but instead he got so much more.”

“How romantic” Margaery bit back. “It must be exhilarating to be married to a man who plays with people like he would be playing chess.” This caused her to laugh. She tossed her head back and inhaled deeply. “So when will it be? My execution? The executioner will have an easy job. I have such a small neck.” She laughed again, reaching up to touch the creamy white skin of her neck but Sansa could see the tears forming in her eyes.

“There doesn't have to be an execution. You don't have to die Margaery. That is why I am here.”

“I don't understand.” Margaery gave her a questioning look, as she quickly wiped a stray tear away. Sansa smiled lightly and stood from her seat. She moved around the table and kneeled down before Margaery. She took her old friend's hands into hers and looked deeply into her eyes. She rubbed her thumb over Margaery's knuckles and gave her a kind smile.

“I pulled you out of that cell because the Queen asked me too. She doesn't want you to die.” Margaery huffed at that and looked away but Sansa pulled hard on her hands, making her focus on her again. Sansa's gaze turned hard and Margaery focused. “She sees the good you have done for this city and she wants Westeros to succeed. She knows that if you die, the Reach will rebel and there will be no such thing as peace.”

“I'm the key to the Reach.”

“You are.” Sansa sighed. “You are important. Very important and the Queen knows that.” She gripped Margaery's hands tighter. “All you have to do is bend the knee. Bend the knee to Daenerys and you will have everything. You will have money, standing, family and most importantly, your life.”

“You mean turn my back on the throne, on my husband?” Margaery hissed and yanked her hands out of Sansa's. She stood and walked towards the stone edge. She placed her hands against it and looked out into the ocean. “What of Tommen? What about him? Are you going to pull him from some dark cell and give him the same option? I doubt it. If she wants any claim to the throne, Daenerys would be a fool to allow Robert Baratheon's son alive.”

“Except he isn't Robert's son, now is he?” The truth hung between them for a moment. She couldn't be certain if Margaery had ever known that secret. She was certain Olenna did but what of Margaery. By the complete unsurprised look upon her face, it was clear that she did know. Who told her, Sansa couldn't be sure. “You and I both know that Tommen has no rights to the throne. He never did. Neither did Joffrey.”

“So you're telling me that she will simply let Tommen live because he has no legal claim to the throne?” Sansa didn't answer but just gave her a look. “No. She won't. You're asking me to turn my back on my husband, to willingly walk him to the execution block, to become a widow? How can you ask that of me?”

“You've done it before. You led Joffrey to me, which you knew would mean a gruesome end.”

“That was different and you know it.”

“Because he was a monster?” The two of them shared a look. They both had been victimized by Joffrey and lived. They both suffered at his hands and knew what it was like to be beaten by him. Yet, Margaery refused to answer. They killed a king together. “Does Tommen know you helped kill his brother? If he lived, he would find out.” Again, Margaery remained silent. “Do you love him?”

“Tommen do I love him?” It was something that Sansa hadn't really considered. The moment Joffrey had broken her; she knew that she would never allow herself to acknowledge that emotion again. Because she didn't allow herself that luxury, she sometimes forgot that others did. Margaery and Tommen shared a life together. They were married. She knew that there was so much more to marriage than just the game. It was the little moments. Baelish and she had several of those small moments between themselves; his mockingbird pin resting by the bed in the evenings, reading by the fire at night or how he whispered in her ear as he came inside her. It was entirely possible that in that time, Margaery had fallen in love with her husband. “No. I don't.”

“Then why?”

“Because he is good! He is not like Joffrey!” Margaery threw up her hands. “He never expected to be king. He was thinking about what his life would entail and while he never knew what it was that he wanted, to be king wasn't it. The weight and the stress and the loss were more than he can handle.” Margaery closed her eyes and inhaled. “Tommen isn't made to be king. He isn't strong enough but that does not mean he deserves to die.”

“I can't make promises Margaery. I know Tyrion does not want to see his nephew executed.” Margaery appeared confused but she wasn't about to explain how Tyrion fit into this puzzle. “Daenerys is willing to offer you the chance at a second life. Yes, Tommen may die and it will hurt but you will be alive. The Tyrell name will be alive.”

“My family has nothing to do with this.”

“They have everything to do with this. You are being offered a chance at life. She will give you a position on her council. You can love someone else. Have children with someone else. Tommen will be a wound yes but so is Joffrey and you are alive because of it. You are stronger because of it.” Sansa stepped forward and touched her shoulders. “If you don't, if you don't bend the knee, you will die. The Reach will rebel. While that may not be ideal, it won't shake Daenerys’. Yes, the world loves you. The kingdoms love you. But Daenerys has three dragons. You saw what they did when she invaded. That is what will happen to the Reach if they rebel.”

“I'll talk to them. I'll tell them to mourn me and move on.”

“Do you honestly believe Olenna Tyrell wouldn't avenge her favorite grandchild's death? It's not just your life on the line here Margaery. It is your entire family’s. It is Loras, Willas, your father and mother and your grandmother.” Those words got Margaery's attention. It made her realize that it wasn't just her life that mattered. Yes, Tommen might be sacrificed but it would save so many more. What was one life for thousands? “Dragon fire is an awful way to die.”

“What did you mean that she would put me on her council?” Sansa realized that she didn't go into detail about that part of the offer. Margaery had been so focused on the fact that she might be executed as well as her husband that Sansa didn't have the chance.

“She is trying to rebuild the city after her dragons attacked. She is healing the wounded and she saw the good you've done here. She learned of your reputation and how you make an effort to care for those who are less fortunate. She wants you to continue to do what you've always done.”

“It was nothing more than an act – just an act to get what I want.”

“And it is an act that will save your life.” They shared a look and Margaery understood. The game wasn't over. She wasn't the queen anymore but that does not mean she lost. She would only lose if she died and she was being offered a second chance; a chance to avoid that fate.

“And what of you? You're not pregnant anymore. Boy or girl?”

“Girl. Alayne. She is perfect.” Margaery offered her congratulations and Sansa smiled. “Petyr and I are going to take Alayne to Harrenhal. It has been completed and we are having it furnished. We will be back I'm sure but we want to raise Alayne and any other children we may have away from King's Landing.”

“That is smart. I know you won't allow them to be used like you were. Like I was apparently.” Margaery laughed lightly and looked out into the sea again. “I thought I was pregnant. I wasn't. I never understood why I could never get pregnant. That was my one job. Give Tommen an heir and I failed. Maybe it was the tea Cersei gave me or maybe I can't have children or maybe Tommen can't, I don't know. I want children but it will be a relief not to have to try.” 

“That is why you did it then, because of the moon tea?” Sansa knew that was the reason; she had known before this conversation but she wanted to hear Margaery say it. She wanted to hear the reason why she condemned her sister to a life of exile from her lips. “Is that why you went to Arya?”

“I went to Arya because she was the best bet. She was skilled, perhaps a bit raw but skilled none the less. If she got caught then I knew I had an easy way to talk my way out of it with Tommen.” Sansa's face went hard but Margaery pressed on. “It was wrong. I shouldn't have used Arya. I'm sorry. All I could think about was getting rid of Cersei. I felt so pressured to have a child and it wasn't easy seeing you get pregnant so easily.”

“I won't apologize for my daughter.” Sansa snapped at her. “But I can understand why you did it. Giving Petyr an heir was something he needed in order for him to succeed but it wasn't my main focus. Petyr would have had me even if I didn't give him children. Tommen would have been forced to put you aside. While I don't agree with what you did. I can't say I wouldn't have done something similar.”

“Thank you for that, at least.”

“You're welcome. I had a bath drawn for you and a chamber prepared. Your clothes had been sent up as well as more food. You will be comfortable. Guards will be at your door of course. You're allowed visitors, ones that are approved of course but you must remain in your chamber. You will be called in front of the court and asked to bend the knee. You will have a few days to make your decision. I hope your family will be more of an influence over you.” Sansa gave her one last smile before she turned and made her way towards the Red Keep. 

“Who was it?” Sansa turned back around. She could see the Unsullied attempting to urge Margaery in the direction of her new chamber, but she stood still; waiting for Sansa's reply. “Loras? No. He is brave but he isn't exactly smart enough to come to Littlefinger and his bride to ask for my freedom. He would have laid down his life in-front of the new queen. No. It was my grandmother. She would be the only one who knew that Petyr Baelish held such a power.”

“Give your family more credit. Your grandmother did most of the talking.” Sansa gave one last smirk. “But both of them came for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we are slowly tying up Margaery's storyline. I may or may not have been watching the Tudors when I wrote this chapter :) I couldn't help but include Anne Boyln's line about her neck when she is executed. 
> 
> I also want to add that we have a title for the rewrite. "Until the Ink Dries". I wanted something that basically states rewrite and redoing the mess that D&D made.


	118. Chapter 118

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnddd we're back.

Chapter One Hundred and Eighteen

This was a new view. Before, whenever the court assembled, Sansa was always a part of the crowd. Now, however she stood with the royal family. While she was not the queen, Daenerys viewed her as family simply because of her connection to Jon. While the dragon queen sat upon the Iron Throne with Aegon and Jon beside her; Sansa found herself standing closer to the throne than she ever had before. When they entered the chamber, Sansa expected to be standing amongst the crowd as she always had done. Jon, who was already seated, stood at their entrance and he held out his hand, indicated that she was to stand by his side.

Baelish followed her and wrapped an arm around her middle, gently for she was still tender from giving birth. It was clear that he was trying to claim her in front of the entire court, solidifying both of their positions. While Baelish always respected his wife, he did have a tendency to be possessive of her. He adored seeing her in power; he found it intoxicating and desirable. Having her become the woman he knew was inside of her the moment he met her was so much more than simple affection. It was far more primal.

He wanted to show the court that this woman was his, and that he was hers. For so long, many thought her to be nothing more than the daughter of a northern lord. They pitied her. They thought she was sold to the highest bidder in order to save her home. They thought she was nothing more than a victim of Joffrey's cruel reign. They pitied her for all her losses that she suffered.

Yet, as she stood in front of the crowd, with both Jon and Baelish by her side, they could finally see her for who she truly was. She wasn't the queen to anyone except Baelish but all of them now knew exactly how dangerous she was. As they held up their hands to whisper behind it with their eyes pointed directly at her; Baelish couldn't help but smirk at them all.

It was so much more than pride. He had bested them all. He came from nothing and was nothing to many of those of higher birth; but he proved them all wrong. They all believed that he would amount to nothing more than a low level lord from the Fingers. Despite his low birth, Baelish was able to bring all Seven Kingdoms to their knees.

And most of the kingdoms would never realize that.

Everyone knew that both Baelish and Sansa proclaimed for House Targaryen. They knew that they actively worked against the Lannisters but the truth to the extent of Baelish's deception would be hidden from the rest of the world. They would never know that it was Baelish who bankrupted the Seven Kingdoms or how he changed kings on the Iron Throne like men changed the woman in their bed. Part of him would love for the world to marvel at his genius but he knew better. Just because he reached the end he had imagined for years, it does not mean that the game is over.

The game never ended.

He knew that as he stood in front of the court with his arm wrapped around his wife. A hush fell over the members of the crowed as Daenerys gracefully strolled in. He had only ever communicated with her through ravens and seeing her in person always made Baelish look at her in awe. He wasn't in love with her and never would be, but he couldn't deny that she had a commanding presence; and she would give him everything he needed to rise even higher. Despite all of that, she could never be Sansa.

“My Lords and Ladies, I thank you for joining me today.” Her voice spoke softly through the crowd, as though they had a choice. They all saw the destruction that her dragons could do an only a fool would go against her. “I'm not here to murder you or take your homes. I'm not cruel or unjust. I am not my father. I am here to free you of the Lannister reign that you have endured. Bend the knee to me and everyone will be treated with equal justice.”

It was nothing like Baelish had seen before. He had witnessed battles, death, schemes and complete destruction caused by dragon fire but he had never seen something as magnificent as this. The entire court, hundreds of people, down on their knees and bowing to their new queen. It is not that these people would willingly follow her, either out of fear or loyalty; it was the fact that he put her there. Without Baelish, Daenerys would have had a far more difficult time taking the Iron Throne.

“Don't look so smug. People will notice.” Sansa chided and Baelish tuned the new Queen out. He looked at his wife with her raised eyebrow and smirk upon her lips. He remembered the young girl she had been only two years prior when he had met her. The world had been different and so had she been. She grew into the fearless woman who tied herself to him. He always knew he was going to marry her, long before he had met her, but he was lucky that she turned out to be this beautiful creature before him. Unable to help himself, Baelish leaned in and took her lips with his. It was a gentle kiss and quick but it was in full view of everyone gathered at court. It wasn't the first time they were affectionate in front of others, but in those cases it normally was to achieve some kind of goal.

“Eh hem.” The couple turned from each other and looked toward the throne. Daenerys was looking at them with a smile on her face and a quirked eyebrow. She said nothing but instead turned back to the court to resume her speech. Baelish pulled her closer and Sansa couldn't help but chuckle. She leaned into her husband, not caring if it was improper or if the court whispered about their affection. She was far too used to scandals and lies being spread about her. Besides, by the end of court they would have so much more to talk about. “Bring forth the first one.”

The heavy wooden doors opened and several Unsullied guards entered. Along with them was Myrcella Baratheon. She was dressed in nothing more than a brown dress but she appeared clean. Her hair was loose but combed. Her feet were bare but it was obvious that she had recently bathed. Sansa didn't know if Myrcella was offered something similar to what Margaery had been given or if Daenerys wanted to appear kind for the court. Having the princess they had all loved at one point dressed in rags and dirty was not the way to do that.

“Myrcella Baratheon. You are here by the simple fact that of whom your father was. For that I cannot find you the perpetrator of a crime.” Daenerys voice spoke out and Sansa wondered if Myrcella was locked in the Black Cells at all. It made sense for Tommen and Margaery to be locked away but Myrcella's only crime was whom she was related to. “Your Uncle Tyrion has begged for mercy on your behalf. He has been granted Casterly Rock. He requests that you be turned over into his custody until you marry or reach the age of twenty one. All you have to do is bend the knee.” Myrcella said nothing but instead just focused her gaze upon Daenerys as though she was measuring her worth. Myrcella was always known to be the brightest of her siblings. “Perhaps you would prefer to go to Storm’s End with your other uncle. Lord Baratheon has taken in his niece Shereen, perhaps-”

“He isn't my uncle.” Myrcella stated, cutting across Daenerys' words. It was clear that the new queen didn't take kindly to being interrupted. Myrcella turned toward Renly who was standing on the sidelines. She mouthed an apology to him. “My apologizes, Your Grace but we all know that I have no drop of Baratheon blood in me. I would prefer to stop pretending that I do.” Myrcella stepped forward, causing the Unsullied to follow but Daenerys held up her hand, stopping them. “If I believed that Robert Baratheon was the true king and that his children were his heirs, then I would have no claim to the throne.”

“But do you bend the knee and proclaim me as your Queen?”

“This life has only brought me loss.” Myrcella stated. “My grandfather was murdered in his sleep. My mother, despite her faults was someone I loved dearly, was also murdered. My true father, murdered. My brother was a monster but he was still my brother. Now he is dead, also murdered. This place has caused me to lose my entire family and I am no fool. My brother believes the lie that my mother told us about who our father was. He believes himself to be the heir to the throne. I know you're going to have him executed.” Myrcella looked Daenerys directly in the eye. “My brother is a fool but he is still my brother. You may be Queen but I can never love you. Take that Iron Throne, for if I had any claim, I do not want it.”

“Very well” Myrcella never bowed but it wasn't because she didn't recognize her as Queen but for the act that she was bound to commit. “Myrcella Baratheon, you are banished from King's Landing. You are to return to Casterly Rock until you wed. You are never to step foot in this city again.” Myrcella nodded but never bowed. Tyrion stepped down from beside Aegon and made his way towards Myrcella. He took the girl into his arms and kissed the top of her head. It was clear that Tyrion had begged for her life. He was going to lose his nephew but he could at least save his niece.

Tyrion and Myrcella moved to the side. The dwarf led his niece out of the way and they passed Sansa and Baelish. Myrcella caught Sansa's eye and the other woman wondered if the former princess's feelings towards the new queen meant the same for her. She would never forgive Daenerys for Tommen's future death and Sansa was curious if she was forgiven for Joffrey's. While Tommen and Joffrey were brothers, they were nothing alike and Myrcella loved one more than the other.

“Bring the next one.” The wooden doors opened again to reveal Margaery, gripping the hands of her grandmother and brother. There were fewer guards with her but a few Unsullied still followed suit. Margaery was dressed as she always had been during Sansa's acquaintance with her. Her hair was pinned to the top of her head with chocolate curls falling down her the back. Her gown was light blue and silver. The only difference was that there was no crown upon her head.

Once they reached about half-way into the throne room, Olenna and Loras let go of her hands, allowing her to make her way to the throne. Unlike Myrcella, Margaery bent her head and got to her knees. Whispers broke out all around the court; everyone was stunned by her action. “Margaery Baratheon, it is known that you sat beside my throne, calling yourself Queen, do you deny it?”

“No, You’re Grace. I do not.”

“Very well. Explain your situation.”

“I beg your pardon, Your Grace, but you were not here. You were across the narrow sea and for many years, the Seven Kingdoms called Robert Baratheon king.” Daenerys looked irritated but said nothing. “Despite whether or not he had any claim to the throne is not what I am trying to say. We all called him King and he had two sons to rule after him. My marriage was arranged by my parents. As any good daughter would do, I married the man they had chosen for me.”

“The marriage between yourself and Joffrey Baratheon was brokered between your father and Lord Petyr Baelish, is that not correct?” Both Sansa and Baelish could feel the court's eyes upon them, but neither moved. Margaery nodded her head, her eyes flickering to them both. “You do understand that Lord Baelish had been my man for many years. Your marriage was nothing more than a step to allow me to take the throne.”

“I realize that now.” There was a bitter tone to her voice that couldn't be hidden. It was clear that Margaery did not take kindly to being someone's pawn in the game; especially since she was on the losing side. However, Margaery was adaptable and knew what the right choice was, which had to be made. Sansa was banking on it. Olenna had delivered Renly to the capitol and held up her end of the bargain. It would be bad blood if Sansa didn't do the same.

“Do you lay any claim to the throne?”

“No. I do not.”

“Very well.” Daenerys stood from her throne and made her way down the stone steps to where Margaery was kneeling. The Queen looked down at her and smiled. “When I came to this city, I was expecting something broken; something that I would need to repair. Instead, I found a city, while not perfect and far from thriving, it was at least in far better hands than I had thought; and that was all you’re doing.” Margaery's brow creased in confusion. “I heard your name spoken with respect and privilege. The masses adore you because you have shown them that you care. You have raw talent for giving and making those less fortunate prosper.”

“Thank you.”

“And that is why I have a proposition for you.” The court grew silent, deathly silent. They all expected to see Margaery's head upon a spike and seeing that most of the wealthy are fickle, they were eager for it. “I have many men on counsel who advise me but none of them can claim they have been a queen. You can. You know the masses and you have done wonders for them. So, I offer you a place on my counsel, as one of my advisors.”

Daenerys held out her hand for Margaery to take. She looked over her shoulder at both her grandmother and Loras. Olenna nodded her head while Loras had his hands on the older woman's shoulders. Margaery's eyes then went towards Sansa and there was a look behind the other woman's eyes that Sansa could not place. It was uncertain if their friendship would ever resume but Sansa knew that she would have to at least try for it. It wouldn't be wise to allow Margaery and Daenerys to grow too close.

Margaery looked at the Queen and gave her a small smile. She slipped her hand into the outstretched one. Daenerys held her hand and the two of them stood side by side. The court applauded at the informal union. It was a smart move for the city and also a very political one. There were many out there who still loved Margaery and killing her would only cause those to rally against Daenerys. Showing Margaery a hand of kindness and a high position stood a chance of making them love her. Daenerys walked Margaery to her grandmother and brother, allowing them to take her to the side. The Queen strolled back to her throne and took her seat upon it.

“Bring him in.” The court froze. Sansa gripped her husband's hand tightly. The doors opened wide, giving way to a single file line of several Unsullied guards. They were all but dragging a dirty and poorly dressed Tommen behind them. They placed Tommen on the ground in front of the throne. He looked up at Daenerys with nothing but pure hatred. It was a complete contrast to the look he had given her the night Joffrey was murdered. Being king changed him. The stress he simply could not handle.

“Tommen Baratheon, you have claimed to sit upon the Iron Throne, calling yourself king, do you deny it?”

“My father sat upon that throne, as did my brother before me.”

“As did mine.” Daenerys snapped back. “My father was king and Robert Baratheon rebelled against him and then your father drove a sword through his king's back. Robert Baratheon was nothing more than a usurper and your father never sat on the throne. You have no claim. Bend the knee and perhaps I will show you mercy. Your sister has been exiled to Casterly Rock, forbidden to ever step feet in this city again, bend the knee and I will show you the same kindness.”

“I am the King.” Tommen replied and looked around. No one moved. “I am your King!” He screamed and turned his head frantically around. He saw Margaery standing with her family and Tommen's eyes lit up. Yet, Sansa could see that Margaery refused to look at him. “Margaery!” Nothing. “Margaery!” Margaery dropped her grandmother's hand and stepped out into the aisle. She looked at the Queen, who nodded her head. She walked toward her husband and kneeled before him. She kissed him lightly on the lips.

“I'm sorry.” Margaery stood and turned her back on Tommen. She briskly made her way towards the giant wooden doors.

“Margaery!” Tommen screamed but she didn't turn, not once. She simply continued walking until she left the throne room completely; Tommen screaming her name the entire time she went. When he realized that she wasn't coming back, Tommen began turning frantically. He saw Tyrion standing to the side with Myrcella. “Uncle. Sister. Please.”

“Tommen Baratheon, do you bend the knee?”

“I am the King.”

“Very well.” She stood from the throne once more and looked down at Tommen. “Tommen Baratheon, for refusing to bend the knee, I sentence you to death by dragon fire at first light. Take him.” The Unsullied picked Tommen off the floor and pulled him from the throne room. He continued to scream as he was dragged from the room. No one moved. Daenerys closed her eyes as she listened to Tommen's screams echoing from the chamber. It was clear that she took no pleasure in what she had just done. She only opened her eyes when Tommen's screams stopped. “You're all dismissed.”

The court dismembered, voices rising with shock and awe at what had just transpired. If Sansa listened close enough, she could hear Tommen's names being muttered several times. Daenerys moved to go to the small council room. Aegon stood and looked over to Jon, who waved him on. Aegon left with his aunt while Jon turned toward Sansa and Baelish.

“I received a letter from Bravos.” Jon stated and Sansa perked up. Both Baelish and Jon had sent men to Bravos to search for Arya. He gave them a letter that was not to be opened until it was in Arya's hands. Sansa took the letter from Jon's hands and opened it up to see her sister's familiar handwriting. It was a welcome sight. At least it was until she read the words. “I'm sorry, but she said she isn't ready to come back yet. She said she needed to finish....whatever it is that she is doing.”

“You and I both know what she is doing.” Baelish said and he shared a look with Jon. “You spent the better half of a year in Essos. I am sure you've heard the stories. The Faceless Men are expensive but worth every gold dragon you spend.”

“Faceless men? I don't understand.” Sansa said, looking between both Jon and her husband. They shared a look again, neither one wanting to tell her what it was that her baby sister and best friend was doing. “I'm not a child. I have survived war, rape, loss, childbirth and a score of other things. I am certain I will survive whatever it is the two of you don't want to tell me.”

“Assassins. The Faceless Men are assassins that can change their appearance at will. The more they kill, the more they lose themselves. Eventually, they turn themselves over to the Many Faced God.” Baelish told her and Jon nodded. “They are revered in Bravos. Men fear them but they are respected. If one turns away from them, well, it is not a pleasant sight.”

“And this is where Arya is? Training to be a faceless man? No. She would never let go of herself like that. Not when she knows where I am. Where Jon is!” Sansa could feel herself getting hysterical. She had never thought that Arya would not come back. She had always assumed that her sister would be by her side when they were at Harrenhal. “Daenerys! She knew. She said something about her not wanting to come back.”

“Yes. We've discussed it when you said she was headed toward Bravos. It wasn't confirmed until Petyr told us of the friend she had made when you all were traveling to King's Landing from Winterfell. Then we had sent men to Bravos to see if she would come home.” Jon replied and Sansa whipped toward her husband.

“You promised never to keep things from me again!”

“Sweetling. I wanted to make sure what Arya's decision was before I told you.” He whispered as he wiped the tears that were falling down her cheeks. Jon gripped her forearm in a comforting manner. “We can't force her back here. She would grow to hate it. She needs to return to us on her own terms.”

“Arya will never be able to let go of herself completely. She will come home.” Jon reassured her and Sansa knew that he was right. Arya was a Stark and that wasn't something she would ever be able to part with. Especially now that she knew Jon was alive and in King's Landing. She knew that Sansa was going to Harrenhal with her husband and child. When the time was right, Arya would find her way back.

“She is my sister. She has too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this chapter really ties up the story. Dani is on the throne, Petyr and Sansa are happy, Margaery sits on the small council, Tommen will be executed, Myrcella goes to Casterly Rock. 
> 
> Two chapters are left. The next is a moment between Petyr and Sansa (something we have all been needing) and then the epilogue.


	119. Chapter 119

Chapter One Hundred and Nineteen

Harrenhal was massive. It was the biggest castle in all the Seven Kingdoms and was extremely expensive to fix. Yet, the expense was worth it, for the life that would grow inside it. It had five tall towers that seemed high enough to touch the sky. It was built on a grander scale that Sansa could ever have possibly imagined. Baelish had told her the scale that Harrenhal was built to but she never imagined this. On the ground, Baelish had made sure that a garden was put in, one that rivaled those of King's Landing. It was in the place that the God’s Wood had once been. Baelish had asked Sansa if she wanted a God’s Wood and a Weirwood. After contemplations, Sansa decided that in her new home she wanted nothing that reminded her of the pain she had endured.

So, Baelish had rows upon rows of flowers, and beauty aligned the stone walls. He had high windows installed that allowed the castle to be filled with light. He refused the idea of Harrenhal being dark and gloomy. He wanted a bright and beautiful place for his children to grow up in. He wanted Alayne to run amongst the trees and rivers, just like Sansa had asked of him when they were stood upon the bridge at the Twins. He furnished the castle with rich sofas and beautiful paintings.

The tallest tower, also known as the King’s Pyre Tower, was transformed into their chambers. It was larger than the ones they had had in King's Landing. It was round with large windows and a balcony that looked over the Riverlands. There was a bridge that connected their tower to a smaller tower and that was where Baelish had their children's chambers created. Alayne, once she was old enough, would be moved from the nursery that was connected to their sleeping chambers, to a chamber there, as would any of her siblings.

As Sansa thought on her daughter and future children, she gazed out onto the tops of the trees that she could see from her balcony. The wind was harsh but bracing. She was not used to being this high up in the sky. Yet, the view was well worth the cold. It was as though she could see all of Westeros from that very spot. In the distance she could see the mountains of the Vale. If she turned to her right, she could almost see the snow of the North and if she turned south, in the distance she could almost see a dragon flying in the sky.

She looked up to the sky to see the full moon rising overhead. Closing her eyes she could hear the Direwolves howling in the night. It wasn't a mournful sound but instead it was the one of home. Sansa finally felt for the first time in years that she was home. The night Joffrey had taken her innocence; he had also taken her home. Sansa would never love the snow the same way. She would never love the God’s Wood the same way. She would never love another, the same away and most certainly, she would never love herself the same way as she had before Joffrey had ruined her.

But she survived. She faced had her enemies and had won. She stood at the top of the world while they all rotted in their graves. While she may not be the Old Sansa who believed in fairytales and knights in shining armor, she was far stronger than that small child she had been. Sansa was a woman who had grown out of those foolish ways in the worst way possible. Despite all she had suffered, she wouldn't change who she had become for anything. She wouldn't change the fact that Harrenhal would be her home or the fact that her daughter would be raised here.

Sansa wouldn't change her marriage to Petyr Baelish for anything.

Sansa opened her eyes as she felt her husband's arm encircle her middle. She leaned back into him and rested her head against his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head and slowly allowed his lips to make their way down her neck. He kissed the trail of her skin until he reached her ear, taking her lobe between his teeth. Sansa whimpered as his hands trailed over the silk of the robe she was wearing. It had been weeks since she felt her husband. She had been sore from giving birth and she felt a bit subconscious about her body. She was nervous that her husband wouldn't find her beautiful.

“Welcome home, my wife.” Baelish whispered into her ear. Sansa turned in his arms and brought her lips to his. She kissed him deeply, her tongue intruding his mouth. His tongue massaged her while his hands roamed freely over her body. His hands reached towards the belt that held her robe together and pulled the silk strings in order for the garment to fall open. His eyes trailed down her body, taking in every curve he could see that was outlined by her night shift. He leaned in to kiss her again but Sansa placed her hand on his chest; stopping him from coming closer.

“Thank you, for making it one.” She leans in and kisses the top of his nose. She moved her lips from his nose to his cheekbone. When she reached his lips, she placed a gentle kiss upon them before pulling away. Her ice blue eyes flickered to his grey-green ones. She gave him a gentle smile and then linked her fingers with his; her thumb caressing his knuckles as she felt her fingers intertwine with his. 

Slowly, Sansa pulled him from the balcony that overlooked the Riverlands and led him into their personal chambers. The chamber was large and warm. It was decorated in rich green and blues. There were accents silver in the blankets and pillows. Sansa could see the silver mockingbird etched onto different surfaces in the chamber. Yet, it wasn't just the bird she saw but the direwolf commingled alongside her husband's sigil. There was a bed against the farthest wall that faced the stone fireplace, with a fire that lit in the crate. There were sofas and chairs pressed up against the wall in order to make a comfortable sitting area. There were doors that led to Alayne's nursery and a bathing area. Sansa made it home.

She led him to the bed and placed her hands upon his chest. She gently pushed him down upon the bed. He sat down and looked at her with hazy eyes. He gave her a lusty smile and reached for her but Sansa slapped his hand away gently. She smirked at him but gave him some mercy. She leaned down and kissed his lips. He wanted to deepen the kiss but she wouldn't allow him to do so. She pulled back and stood up. She shrugged off her robe and allowed it to hit the ground.

She was still dressed in her nightgown and Baelish found that she was far too clothed. He attempted to undress her but once again, Sansa didn't allow him to do so. Instead, she reached down and took the mockingbird pin that was placed on his coat. She brought the silver bird to her lips and gave it a small kiss.

“You gave me this once and I wore it every day when you were gone.” She remembered the days that he and her father would ride to different parts of the North in order to collect taxes. She had missed him so much during those absences. Sansa kissed the pin one last time before placing it on the bedside table, just like Baelish had done after the first night they had spent in her bed. “You've taught me so many lessons, Lord Baelish. I will never forget them.”

“Sansa” Her name came out in a breathy moan. Sansa leaned down one more time and kissed his lips. As her lips slowly moved against his, she began to pull the strings that held his coat together. When their lips broke apart, Sansa rested her forehead against his while the coat fell open completely. She pushed it off of his shoulders as he slowly slipped out of it and it spread across the bed with Baelish sitting upon it.

“Shh. Let me thank you.” She pulled the hem of his tunic out of his britches and pulled it over his head; tossing the offending fabric across the chamber. Sansa placed a kiss on the side of his lips and began to trail a few kisses down his jaw line until she reached the base of his ear. She nipped at his earlobe, taking it between her teeth; enticing a moan from his lips. She placed one hand on his knee and slowly dragged it up his leg until she reached the bulge that was expanding between his legs. She began to massage his penis while her lips began to suck on the pulse in his neck.

“Sweetling, please” Baelish begged her, his voice betraying more emotion than she had ever heard from him. Her tongue darted out as she tasted his skin. She could taste salt as she licked the top of the scar on his chest. As she had done many times before, Sansa kissed every inch of his scar while she made her way down his chest. Sansa sat down on her knees. She placed her hands on his knees again but this time she pushed his legs apart and settled herself between them.

Sansa reached for the ties that held Baelish's britches together and pulled them apart. He could feel the fabric brushing against his member, causing him to hiss as she went. Once his pants were fully separated, Sansa easily pulled his penis free; causing him to groan at the contact her hand brought. She leaned down and kissed the tip of him. She placed butterfly kisses along the length of him. She tilted her eyes upward to look at him. She could see his gaze peering down at her. Holding his gaze, Sansa's tongue peeked out and then suddenly she licked the entire length of his penis.

“Gods” Baelish moaned out. He hands shot to her hair, weaving his long fingers through her red mane. Sansa opened her mouth and took her husband in as far as she was able. She sucked and bobbed her head, feeling him hitting the back of her throat. She focused at the task at hand, trying not to make herself gag as she went. She moved her hands upward and cupped his balls. She massaged them while her tongue swirled around him. Baelish dug his nails into her scalp, causing Sansa's eyes to flutter shut and moan around him. “Sweetling, I-you need to stop.”

She didn't listen but instead continued to suck and lick at him. Baelish gently tug at her hair, pulling her away from his member. A popping sound emerged as her lips were removed from his penis. Her lips were swollen and her hair mused; Baelish thought it was one of the most beautiful sights he had ever seen. It almost rivaled the moment he first met her or the memory of her walking towards him in the God’s Wood the day he married her. There were so many memories between the two of them that it was difficult to relive them all. All he knew was her and that he couldn't get enough of her.

Sansa stood, crawling on top of him. She tugged at his britches, pulling them completely off and tossed them somewhere that Sansa didn't know. She settled on his lap and placed her hands on both side of his face. She pressed her lips to his and kissed him hard. Their tongues battled for dominance and while their lips molded together. Baelish's hand touched her leg and he slid it upward slowly. When he reached the end of her nightgown, he attempted to pull it upward in over to slide it over her head. However, Sansa's hand shot down and stopped him. Their lips broke apart and her eyes gave him a worried look.

It was fear and insecurity.

“Let me see you. Please. I haven't been able to see you.” Baelish whispered to her. He hadn't laid eyes on her naked body since before their daughter was born. The first few weeks, Sansa was too sore to even allow him to touch her. Then, once she felt healed enough, there was only enough time for Baelish to drag her small-clothes down her legs and bury himself inside of her. On the road, their trysts had to be quick. Yet, that night Alayne was asleep and would be for hours. Baelish had plenty of time to worship her but he knew that she was self-conscious of the changes her body had undergone. To him, she was the most beautiful person in the world. After a deep look, Sansa nodded and allowed her husband to pull the nightgown over her head.

“I'm sorry, I'm not – ” Baelish put a finger on her lips, silencing her

“You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen.” The finger that was placed on her lips, tailed downward; touching her skin from her jaw bone to her breasts. Her breasts were fuller than they had been prior to pregnancy. They were full of milk in order to feed their daughter. While they grew when she was pregnant, feeling how tender and sensitive they were when he touched or kissed them. When he took his nipples between his lips, Sansa hissed but it wasn't because she was in pain.

Baelish's fingers gripped her hips while he continued to kiss and suck at her breast. Sansa withered and moaned above him, her hands gripping at his black hair. One of his hands touched her stomach where their daughter had grown. It wasn't as flat as it once was but instead there were light marks that stretched across her skin. There were bits of flesh that curved and protruded more than it had before. She wasn't big but she wasn't as slim as she once was. Baelish still found her more desirable now than he had.

His grip turned harder and he flipped her over, so now she was lying on her back; causing her to squeal and laugh as he did. Her hair sprawled across the silk pillows. Baelish pulled at the stings on her small-clothes until they became undone. Sansa lifted her hips slightly, allowing him to toss the garments across the room. Sansa spread her legs and Baelish was easily able to settle between them. He leaned down and kissed her lips lightly. When they broke apart, he brushed her red hair away from her face and looked into those ice blue eyes that he adored.

“Sansa” He breathed out. He continued to move strands of her hair away so he could see her better. His soft breath graced her face and she could smell the scent of mint in his breath. He rested his forehead against hers before kissing the tip of her nose. He pulled away and placed his hand on the side of her face. The look he gave her was pure vulnerability and it was something she had never seen from him before. Even when he married her and had held their daughter for the first time he had never shown her this glimpse of vulnerability. “I have loved you more than anyone.”

“Petyr” She didn't know what to say. The words got stuck in her throat but she wanted nothing more than to whisper them right back; but she didn't have to. It was in every expression and action she gave him. Even if Sansa was able to say the words, he would let her. She didn't need to because he just knew. Baelish smashed his lips with hers again but this kiss was different. It was passionate and loving; more so than any other kiss they had ever shared. Baelish reached down and took himself in hand before aligning himself with her entrance. He pushed inside of her while their lips were still connected. “Petyr!”

Baelish thrust his hips forward before pulling out again. Over and over again he thrust. Sansa clawed at his back, crying out his names as her nails dug into his skin. She left red marks and Baelish just hissed at the contact. Sansa wrapped her legs around him, bringing him even closer to her. They locked gazes and with each thrust, Baelish could feel her devotion to him. Sansa could feel herself climbing and he knew she was close. He reached down and graced her clit slowly, matching his thrusts. It was as though a cord snapped inside of her and she came with his name on her lips.

Baelish stilled above her, spilling himself inside of her. He braced himself on top of her until he could feel his heart begin to slow. He looked at her again and Sansa placed a hand on the side of his face, her thumb tracing his cheek bone. After a moment, Baelish pulled out of her and rested on his back. He stared at the stone ceiling, listening to the flicker of the fire in the crate. He opened his arms and pulled Sansa closer to him. She rested her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. She felt herself relax and slowly, her eyes fluttered shut. With the sound of his beating heart and the flicker of fire, Sansa feel asleep.

It was her aching breast that awoke her hours later. The room was dark and the fire in the crate was low. There was no light outside, which told her it was either very late or very early. Sansa sat up and winced. The pain was nearly unbearable and she knew that she would have to feed Alayne soon. Her brow creased when she realized that her daughter's cries had not awoken her. She turned her head to wake her husband but noticed that she was alone in the bed. It made sense to her. She smiled and slowly slid out of the bed.

When her feet touched the stone floor, she reached down and pulled her husband’s coat off the end of the bed. She slipped on the silk fabric and tied a few strings to keep the coat secure around her. Looking around, she noticed that her husband's clothing that she had taken off of him earlier, was gone. She ran her hand through her hair, attempting to get the knots out. She pushed through the door that connected their chambers to Alayne's nursery. When their daughter got older, she would be moved to her own chambers but for the time being, Sansa wanted her close. Baelish would never admit it aloud but he wanted her close as well.

The sight that greeted her made her stop. Baelish was seated in the wooden rocking chair that had once belonged to the nursery in Winterfell. There was a direwolf carved on the base of the chair and it creaked when it rocked. Baelish had his legs crossed with on foot placed firmly on the ground. With his foot, he rocked back and forth with his eyes focused downward. Nestled in his arms was their daughter.

Sansa had seen Baelish hold Alayne several times but there were rare moments when he thought he was alone that Sansa could see past the Littlefinger mask he sometimes had to wear. It happened when he looked at her, like he did when he made love to her earlier; and that is what it was. It was so different the other times he had been inside her. He had been gentle in the past and she could always feel how much he cared for her but he never said the words aloud.

Until now.

Standing in the doorway of the nursery, watching the father of her child hold their daughter did she realize why; after all this time, he would speak one thing that always remained silent between them. Baelish never had a real home or a real family. He was raised at Riverrun by a man who barely acknowledged him. Children of an age as himself that bullied, ignored or ruined him. He never had the security that she had felt at Winterfell. He never had a home.

Now he had Sansa and Alayne. He had a wife that, while she may not be ready to say the words out loud, felt every emotion that he expressed to her hours earlier. He had a daughter that he would kill for if she were to be harmed. She was certain that Alayne wouldn't be an only child. Harrenhal would be filled with children, all who adored their father. She was certain of it.

“Hello my love.” He didn't look up; his eyes focused completely on Alayne. Hearing the words again made her heart flutter. She had once vowed to never allow herself to feel that again but it was as though she had no choice in this. It was as though her emotions were breaking through and she could no longer hide them behind the wall she had built and protected so long ago. “I'm sure she is hungry if you would like to feed her.”

Sansa smiled, breaking through her trace. She put one foot forward and walked toward Baelish. He uncrossed his legs and shifted Alayne, allowing Sansa to sit on his lap. She settled against him and kissed his head, breathing in the scent of his hair. Baelish lifted Alayne and handed her over to Sansa. She held her daughter close while Baelish helped undo the front of his jacket that she was wearing in order for her breast to be freed. Alayne latched on quickly and began to feed eagerly.

While it was still slightly painful, Sansa had grown used to the tug she felt when feeding Alayne. She rested against Baelish's chest and allowed his arms to wrap around her during Alayne's feeding. He rested his chin on her shoulder and she leaned her head against his. Being in his embrace was far more comforting that she had ever felt before. She never realized how much she missed having a home. Winterfell stopped being a home the moment Joffrey stepped over the threshold. King's Landing was nothing more than a game and a place for political moves; but Harrenhal had the potential to everything they both desired.

“I meant what I said.” Baelish whispered as though speaking any louder would ruin everything. “I know it scares you. I know that allowing yourself to feel is something you have fought against for longer than I have known you. I know you want to run from it.” He lowered his lips and kissed her shoulder. “You don't have to say it. Not now, or never. Either way I know you and I both know what you want, what you desire.”

“Thank you.” Sansa said tearing up slightly. She fought the tears back as her heart beat faster. She calmed herself and breathed deeply. She felt Alayne detach from her breast and she looked down at her daughter. The little girl had fallen back to sleep in her arms. She could feel Baelish's eyes on the small child. “What are you thinking?”

“I'm thinking....” Baelish paused and reached out, touching Alayne's small nose. “I'm thinking that I'm going to make her queen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.....I wrote this chapter after the final was released. That last scene with Petyr....I decided to say "fuck you D&D" and wrote how those words SHOULD have been used.
> 
> Now, I never planned on having them say the "L" word but I felt that it would work in this chapter. I wanted Sansa to still be withdrawn and not willing to admit how she feels. Petyr however, would say it. So, I used those words in a more pleasurable way. 
> 
> Also, I will have the epilogue up in a few days.


	120. Chapter 120

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it is here...the end. 
> 
> The final chapter.
> 
> Guys, I don't know how I feel....

Epilogue

Alayne's back was pressed against a tree in the woods that surrounded Harrenhal. Her long raven hair was loose and ran down around her shoulders. Her light green dress was snug against her curves and the dark brown shawl around her shoulders kept her warm. The blanket she had brought with her was spread out under her and her direwolf was lying loyally by her side. Her black leather-bound book, one she had read at least a thousand times, rested on her lap and the words poured into her. The light spring wind caused the edges of the pages to turn upright; for winter had just come to an end once again.

It wasn't as harsh as her father had told her it would be when she was a child, nor her mother. There were times where her mother would bring her to Winterfell to see the snow pile as high as the castle itself. Alayne thought it was beautiful. When she expressed that notion to her father, he simply chuckled saying that she was like her mother; for winter was in her bones. Yet, the North was never home to her like it was for her baby brother. Luwin always said that he felt more alive when he could feel the ice cold wind filling his lungs. Father would always smile at that too, claiming that his youngest child, a mere boy of twelve, was more Stark than Baelish; for Luwin was wolf, wild and untamed.

Yet, Alayne was a mockingbird and she knew it. She was built like her mother, tall and willowy with ice blue eyes but she had her father's mind. She was sharp with a quick wit. Books were her solace and both of her parents always encouraged her reading. She would spend hours pouring herself into a novel, even if she has read them a hundred times. Her sisters never understood how she could read something more than once but Alayne loved the characters and the lives they led enough to always return.

She remembered the first novel she picked up; it was a story of knights and princesses. It didn't feel real to her because everything was too perfect. Her mother found her reading it, a young girl no older than seven, and she questioned her mother if this was how life really was. Did the heroes always win in the end? Her mother had smiled and had told her that heroes were fools. Her mother had then pulled out another book off the shelf and handed it to her. It was thicker and harder for her to understand the words but Alayne was stubborn. The book was dark and the characters were flawed; sometimes the heroes died with unfinished business. That was when Alayne fell in love with written words.

Once she closed that book for the first time, her father knelt in front of her, telling her that he had business in King's Landing and that she was to come with him. It was the first time she had been in the place of her birth. Harrenhal and the Riverlands had always been her home; despite the time she would spend at Winterfell. She loved the sound of the rivers and the rustle of the trees. The heat of King's Landing scorched her but there was a part of her that enjoyed the rays of sun. She remembered the carriage she was riding in, rolling up to the Red Keep and she thought it was beautiful; but it was nothing compared to the dragons.

Alayne was used to beasts; for her mother gifted each of her children with a small wolf that would grow alongside them. Her wolf, a soft grey with specks of white that littered her fur, followed her around constantly; her constant companion. The wolf was with her when she met the Queen, bowing deeply. Daenerys had smiled at her, claiming that she was growing into a great beauty. That embarrassed a young Alayne for she had always been shy to those she did not know. Her father had told her the story of Daenerys Targaryen and how she had reclaimed her throne; of course, it wasn't until she was much older that she had learned the truth and the role her father had played in it. While the Queen was beautiful and that of legends, it wasn't her that fascinated Alayne; it was the heir to the throne – Aegon Targayren.

“I thought I'd find you here.” Alayne was jerked from her musings as the sound of the intruder. She turned quickly, casting her favorite book aside, to see her father strolling towards her. She smiled widely and jumped to her feet. She ran to him quickly, throwing her arms around him. She was taller than him now, just like her mother, but he never seemed to mind or care. She was his daughter and she always felt safe in his arms; even though she knew exactly who he was and how dangerous he was.

“Papa! You're home!” She wasn't expecting him. He had been gone for weeks. While it wasn't unusual for her father to leave Harrenhal for business, he didn't do it often. He always told her that Harrenhal was his home, just like it was hers. He hated leaving even to play the game he loved; especially if it meant leaving their mother; who rarely ever left the Riverlands unless she was to make her annual three month trip to Winterfell. Even then her children and husband traveled with her. “I missed you.”

“And I you my sweet” he chuckled in her ear as he spun her around. He had always done so when she hugged him; ever since she was a young child. Her siblings didn't like it as much as she did so she always felt that it was something that she shared only with her father. “I brought you something.” He reached into his coat, the mockingbird pin gleaming in the sun, and pulled out a book. Alayne smiled and hugged him again. “I believe this is one you haven't read.”

“Thank you!”

“Of course. Now tell me what I have missed.” He held out his arm for her to take. Alayne smiled, gathered her belongings and slipped her arm through his. She called over her shoulder for her wolf to follow. Father and daughter began to stroll through the trees, returning to the gates of Harrenhal.

“Nothing exciting. Isobel and Ingrid are fighting again but then again they always do.” Her father chuckled and asked what their conflict was about this time. “The usual. Ingrid blaming Isobel for her misery. Of course, it is true but Ingrid will never know the extent of that affair. If she did, it would break her.”

“She is fourteen and naive. No matter how often your mother and I try and show her how cold the world is, she still clings to the hope that the world is a beautiful place. I worry that it will ruin her.” It was rare for Alayne to see her father so worried but she knew that Ingrid was the child that he was concerned about the most. “Sansa often says that Ingrid reminds her of herself when she was young and before...” Her father trailed off. Both her mother and father always did when they spoke of her mother's childhood. Something horrible happened that neither spoke of. Alayne had her theories, ones that she only discussed with her brother, and she was concerned that she was right.

“Yes. Well, it is strange how two sisters, identical in appearance can be so completely different.” Isobel and Ingrid Baelish, despite being identical twins, were as different as night was from day. Isobel was the combination of their parents’ worst and best attributes. She was cold, manipulative, and intelligent in all the wrong ways and had no fear of getting blood on her hands. Even at a young age, Isobel was made for the game and it was something their parents nurtured. They taught her just as they had taught Alayne and all their children but there was darkness in Isobel that terrified Alayne. While Isobel wasn't cruel, she would cross any line to protect those she held dear. It was something Ingrid never understood or would be capable of.

Ingrid was the purest person Alayne had ever known. She saw the good in everyone; even if there was none to be found. She believed that everyone could be saved. It was something that had nearly gotten her killed. If it hadn't been for Isobel, at the tender age of thirteen, crossing the line for the first time with the help of their father, Alayne was certain that her sister would be dead.

“Isobel and I did what we had to do, and so did your mother.” Alayne nodded. Her parents would do anything to protect their children, even if it meant slipping one drop of sweet-sleep into their evening tea to keep them from running off with a man who wanted nothing more than her father's gold dragons.

“You've always kept us safe. Always will.” She leaned closer into her father, resting her head on his shoulder. He leaned over and kissed the top of it. While she knew he loved all his children, Alayne always felt that there was a small part of him that favored her over the others. It was never spoken aloud but she knew. “Enough talk of sisterly fights, tell me about Casterly Rock.”

“Nothing to exciting. Tyrion Lannister still proves to be infuriating as always. The King ordered me to go and convince him to be his hand, just like he had been for Daenerys, but it appears that he is enjoying retirement.” Alayne's stomach did a small flip at the mention of the King but she didn't let anything appear on her face. Her father however, broke out into the smirk he was famous for. “Your brother however seems to be smitten.” This caused Alayne to pause completely.

“What? Elijah? My brother?”

“Yes.”

“With who!?” Petyr Elijah Baelish II, better known by his middle name, was the heir to both Harrenhal and Winterfell. He was born only ten months after Alayne. Her mother had gotten pregnant with her second child mere weeks after the birth of her first; something she often likes to tease her husband about, even though she had been less than thrilled at the time. Elijah had proven to be a difficult child. While Alayne was what many considered an easy baby, Elijah was not. He cried at all hours of the night and day; nothing satisfying him. As he got older, it appeared that he progressed at a far slower rate than Alayne had. He hadn’t said his first words until he was four. Yet, at that age he had simply taken a book off the shelf, crawled onto his mother's lap and began to read, in full sentences, aloud. Elijah's intelligence was beyond any of them; including their father.

Yet, Elijah found no interest for anyone outside of his family. Most people didn't challenge him and he found them boring; and Elijah rarely found a challenge. He never lost a game of chess, always beating those he played. He wanted to learn the violin but mastered it in hours. It was as though nothing satisfied him. He was always looking for something that didn't bore him. Once at Winterfell, Alayne found him standing in the snow with nothing on except his boots and britches. He claimed that the cold was exhilarating and he just wanted to know how long it would take for his skin to freeze. Nothing fazed him and the idea that her brother, the person she was closets with in the world, had feelings for a girl baffled her.

“Annalise Lannister.”

“Lord Tyrion's only child? How?”

“She called him an imbecile.” Her father chuckled and was clearly enjoying this development. Annalise Lannister was rumored to be beautiful, much like her cousin Myrcella, but held a sharp tongue and quick wit. She was the heiress to Casterly Rock and her father's pride and joy. She also didn't take kindly to fools. “She was discussing something with her father, the topic isn't important, but your brother corrected a small mistake she made.”

“You mean he insulted her.”

“Yes and she didn't take kindly to it. She gave him a tongue thrashing. I believe her exact words were, 'pity, and here I thought I would be impressed by the man who everyone claims to be a genius but instead I find nothing but an imbecile'. It took him nearly an hour to realize she wasn't referring to his intelligence but rather his lack of social decorum. He has been fascinated ever since, even though she appears to want nothing to do with him.”

“She challenged him. Let's only hope he never grows tired of her.” She knew her father. There was a reason he took Elijah with him to the Westerlands. It wasn't just to teach him what it meant to be the master of Harrenhal or Warden of the North. Her father wanted to make a political match and if it was with the heiress to the Westerlands, then it would suit him perfectly. Elijah knew that he was going to have to marry but he always assumed that the woman he married would be dull and infuriating.

“Why is it that I have to discover my husband is home from my son?” Both Alayne and her father turned at the sound of a new voice. Her mother stood at the gates of the castle, looking beautiful as she always had. Alayne hadn't realized how close they had gotten or the fact that they were out of the woods. “Here I thought I would be sleeping alone for at least another week or two but then I see my eldest son, reading a book about the history of the Lannister family. Not even bothering to tell his own mother he had arrived home early.”

“You know how Elijah can be when he is focused on something. Common curtsies slip his mind.”

“Apparently he learned that from his father.”

“May I offer my apologies my love?” He moved away from his daughter and toward his wife. Alayne watched the affection that her parents exchanged. She had grown up seeing how psychical her parents were with one another. They were always touching in some way or sharing looks that Alayne didn't understand until she was older. All five of the Baelish children knew to never go near their parent's chambers at night or any other time of day. They were always taught to knock before entering a room, although neither Elijah nor Isobel seemed to find any embarrassment in catching their parents in a compromising position and it was only Luwin who was yet to walk in on them. “I had a gift to deliver to our daughter.”

“Another book?” Her mother turned toward Alayne, who held up her new possession with a wide smile. The smile was of course returned and Alayne couldn't help but admire how beautiful her mother was. Both Isobel and Ingrid looked like her, even though they had their father's green eyes, and part of her envied them. While Alayne was told that she was beautiful, she always felt that her younger sisters were far prettier than her. “I suppose that is a good excuse, seeing that she has read every book in our library already.”

“Then am I forgiven?”

“I can never stay angry with you for too long.”

“Excellent.” He leaned in and kissed his wife's lips. She fell into his embrace easily; her arms wrapping around his shoulders and her eyes falling shut. There was thick passion that radiated between them and Alayne had always remembered it being there. She wondered if her own marriage would have the same. “I have missed you more than anything.”

“I hate it when you leave me.” She whispered to him. He always told her that she could always travel with him when he left for business; she never did. She found it difficult leaving her children behind, fearful that it would be the last time she saw them. It was another thing that Alayne knew stemmed from the murders of her family when she was young but it was rarely spoken of. However, Alayne knew that her mother would be making the next trip. This one, she refused to miss.

“Luwin is almost thirteen and when Elijah and I need to be away, perhaps it would be best for him to come with us.” Her mother nodded, knowing full well that her youngest child would be given more responsibilities as time wore on. Elijah had expressed interest in having Luwin run the North in his name when the time came, seeing that the young boy had far more love for Winterfell than him. “With Alayne moving to King's Landing soon and since both Ingrid and Isobel will be married eventually as well, perhaps it is time for you to travel with me once again.”

“You always paint such a pretty picture.” She leaned in and kissed him again before turning to her daughter. She made her way over to Alayne and placed her hands on her shoulders. “I cannot believe that you are seventeen. I married Petyr when I was that age. It was the best thing that had ever happened to me.” Alayne could see her father smirk at that. “Even if he is infuriating at times”

“Do you believe that he will love me one day? The way Papa loves you?”

“I believe he already does.”

Alayne was seven the first time she stepped foot in King's Landing. She met the Dragon Queen and her nephew Aegon. She had always heard stories about him from her Uncle Jon and even a few from her Aunt Arya, who was rarely in the country. She remembered being in the crowd, standing by her father watching Daenerys hold court. Both Aegon and Jon sat by her side. Her father kneeled down and whispered a secret in her ear.

“If everything I have planned goes correctly,” he had begun, turning toward the Queen’s nephew “that is the man I plan for you to marry one day.” Alayne had looked up at him with awe and slight fear in her eyes. “He will one day be King and you will be his Queen. But, it is a secret. Outside your mother and I, you are never to speak those words aloud.” And she never did, not even to Elijah.

It seemed that Aegon never wanted to take a wife; any woman who he seemed to have an interest in, either vanished or never returned his affections. Any father who wanted to marry their daughter to the prince would suddenly change their minds. Alayne knew it was her father's doing. She asked him once how he managed to keep Aegon from taking a wife without rising suspicion from the groom himself or his aunt. He smirked at her and told her that everyone had a price.

When Alayne was fifteen she was going back to King's Landing for the second time. She knew that this trip would be different; her mother would be attending as would the rest of her siblings. Luwin and Ingrid had been far more excited than any of her siblings. Luwin was only ten at the time and had only been to the Riverlands and the North. Although, her Uncle Jon took him to the Wall once against their mother's wishes. However, Alayne couldn't feel that same excitement. This trip was for reason and it all rested upon her shoulders.

“Bewitch him. Challenge him. Make him love you.” It was what her father had whispered to her when they reached the gates of the Red Keep. Alayne, having known that this was what her father wanted; she did as she was told. She never sought him out and she never once fell at his feet. She orchestrated meetings with him being none the wiser, certainly, but she never once made it clear that she wanted him. She made him come to her; and he did. The first gift he sent her, she sent back stating that she was not a woman who could be bought. Alayne remained unmoved in his affections and she did so on purpose. Yet, it was when he was injured in a tourney, something Alayne was certain her father arranged, she snuck to his chambers in order to care for him. When Aegon's hands wandered a bit too far, she stopped him.

Her father had told her to do what was necessary to gain the prince's affections even if it meant giving up her maidenhead before she was married. However, she grew to know Aegon and how to play him. Falling into his bed was something Alayne knew would only cause him to look down upon her. So she remained a virgin. It was on her sixteenth name day that Aegon sought out her father, asking for her hand in marriage. He refused him, stating that any marriage his children made would be by their own design. If Alayne agreed to the match, he would put no stop to it. Her father had given her all the power. She could have walked away, returned to Harrenhal and never thought about him again; but she didn't. She agreed to take Aegon as her husband.

She just wasn't sure if she loved him. She was fond of him and he was kind to her. He knew that he would never harm her. If he did, she was certain her parents would find a way to dispose of him; being of royal blood did not matter to them in that regard. She spoke to her mother about her worries once, a few months after the engagement was put into place. It was at Winterfell, her mother insisting that she see it one last time before she married. The advice her mother gave her was that love came with time. She never told her husband that she loved him until all five of their children were born, even though they had been married for years and he had told her how he felt every day. That gave Alayne comfort; until the news of Daenerys' death reached them.

“Is it proper to have a wedding soon after the Queen's death?” Her parents shared a look with one another. Once the engagement between Aegon and Alayne was in place, her mother was adamant that they travel North for one more visit before the wedding. It was during that visit, with both her parents in attendance as well as Aegon himself, claiming that he wanted to see the North for himself, did they learn of her mysterious death. She comforted Aegon in his grief as did her parents.

While they never said it, Alayne knew that it was her mother and father who arranged for Daenerys' death, from the safety of their solar in Winterfell.

“The wedding has already been put on hold for nearly a year in order to mourn her. Aegon is King now and is most anxious to make you his queen.” Queen. That is what terrified Alayne, not Aegon or marriage to him. Her father always told her that she would one day be the Queen but she thought she would be a princess first and would have time to adjust to royal life. But her parents had other plans. Alayne would marry into the Targaryen family and become Queen. Her parents, Petyr and Sansa Baelish, alongside their daughter would have complete control over the throne.

Petyr Baelish was born from nothing. A minor house based in the Fingers of the Vale. He rose to the small council, toppled an empire and became one of the most dangerous men the Seven Kingdoms had ever seen.

Petyr Baelish was born from nothing but crafted a world where his grandson would sit upon the Iron Throne.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think? I wanted the final chapter to be in Alayne's POV and give some insight to the life she had lived in Harrenhal.
> 
> I always imagined Petyr and Sansa not being able to keep their hands off each other. That of course would cause them to have many children. I always saw them having five kids....and I love each and everyone of them. I have so many ideas of what happens to each of them and Petyr and Sansa. I just...I will miss this story so much.
> 
> I don't know how I feel. I'm so sad!!!
> 
> If any of you are curious to what happened to a character or what happens in the future to our favorite two, let me know. Either comment or ask me on tumblr. I do plan on doing a series of one-shots but it won't be a priority as I focus on the rewrite!


End file.
